


Ace of Swords

by disseria



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Minor Character Death, Super Team, Superheroes, Tarot, Think X-Men, or the Avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 17:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6574801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disseria/pseuds/disseria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Scott have been ordered to hunt down a shape shifter who goes by the name of Derek Hale. Stiles wields magic through a deck of tarot cards, while Scott is impervious is any kind of damage. They have to either convince Derek to join their team, or they have to eliminate him, and Stiles really doesn't want to eliminate anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wands

**Author's Note:**

> For everyone who first read my tumblr posts about this fic over three years ago, thank you for your patience. It really has taken me this long to figure out where this story was going. I hope the wait was worth it.
> 
> I apologize to anyone who might think that Erica and Boyd are out of character, but their personalities in this fic are based on who they were before they were turned into werewolves on the show. That, coupled with abilities that tend to be more of a burden than a blessing, and you have the reserved and quirky characters that you’ll find in Ace of Swords.
> 
> I have made a couple of tarot cards to go along with this fic. Visit me on [tumblr](http://disseria.tumblr.com/search/tarot) if you'd like to see them!

Stiles walked a few paces behind Scott, riffling his cards. He had no idea how old the cards were, or where they had originally come from, but they barely showed any signs of wear. And, no matter how much he shuffled them, if he concentrated, he could figure out exactly where each card was in the deck. He tracked the Ace of Swords with his mind, feeling it as it made its way through the deck, over, under, and over again. He could lose himself it the movement of the cards if he wasn’t careful. The Ace of Swords had been his mother's favorite. He trusted it, understood it. It was simple in a way that the other cards weren’t. 

If he wanted to, he could shuffle the deck so that the Ace of Swords would appear on top. But, he knew that the deck didn't work that way. He couldn't choose the cards. There was always an element of uncertainty. Of luck. There had to be. That was the nature of tarot. He frowned, wondering not for the first time if that’s why his mother died. But, he knew that wasn't the case. He couldn't blame the cards. His mother had taken an unnecessary risk. She found herself in a dangerous situation, and drew a card. But, she hadn't been fast enough. Or, maybe it hadn't been the right card. Either way, she was gone now, and he needed to focus if he didn't want to end up like her.

Bastion, otherwise known as his best friend Scott, had his twin knives in his hands. The knives were wicked sharp and ten inches long. Bastion was whistling merrily to himself. Stiles always let Scott walk in front because Scott couldn't get hurt. Literally. That was his one and only ability, but it was a pretty good one. You could push him out of an airplane, throw him into a volcano, or detonate a nuclear bomb on top of his head, and Scott would walk away, unscathed. He wasn't stronger or faster than a regular person, but he knew how to use his knives, and for a "regular" person, Scott was fast. A lot faster than Stiles. And, Stiles was more than happy to let the indestructible knife fighter take the lead when they were in the field, which was appropriate given that Scott was in fact the team's field leader.

Currently, they were on a recruiting mission, or they might have had some of the others with them. They had been tracking the target for over three days now, and they were on the verge of catching up to him. Again. Stiles smirked to cover up his feelings of guilt. And, remorse. In all honesty, it was more of a kidnapping assignment. Supers were either recruited or "disappeared." Sentry was only one of many clandestine superhuman groups, and according to the government, if you were a super and you weren't working for them, then you were a threat and you needed to be eliminated. This wasn't the first "recruiting" mission Stiles had been sent on, and he knew it wouldn't be his last. But, it never got easier. The people they "recruited" didn't really have a choice. It was join up or be killed. At least he had pretty much known for his entire life what he was getting himself into.

The super they were going after was a shape shifter, wolf variety. Went by the name of Derek Hale. His dossier seemed typical of the type: enhanced speed, strength, senses, and healing. Teeth and claws. Shouldn't be too hard. 

Stiles shuffled the deck and peeled off the top card. Ace of Swords. No surprise. He held his hand out in front of him as the card floated up into the air, and he shoved the rest of the cards into his pocket. The floating card expanded and stretched, growing into a broadsword that was almost as tall as he was. He grabbed the hilt and hefted its weight, or more accurately, its lack thereof. It weighed no more than the card it had come from, but that wouldn't stop it from cutting through pretty much anything he swung it at. Well, maybe anything except for Scott, though they had never tested that. With the Ace of Swords in his hands, he was an expert swordsman with a huge, weightless, and impossibly sharp weapon. And it was nearly as indestructible as Scott was. He felt like a video game character. Derek Hale was either going to be the newest member of Sentry, or Stiles was going to cut him in half.

Scott stopped whistling, pausing at the door to turn to Stiles. Stiles nodded at him. The cards never lied. Stiles could track anyone, anywhere, so long as he had his cards, and the cards had told him that Derek would be in the abandoned factory. Scott opened the door and stepped inside, and Stiles followed.

Anyone else would have thought the factory was creepy. It looked like it hadn't been used in ages. Rusted metal walkways criss-crossed the space above them, and the air was musty. It was dark, too, but they had seen worse. They had seen so much worse. Stiles reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. Nine times out of ten, the deck would give him the card he wanted. Other times, he had to work with what he got. It was The Moon. He was hoping for The Sun, but The Moon was close enough. He threw the card towards the ceiling, and it seemed to disappear as the cavernous room filled with soft, silvery light. The sound of footsteps echoed down the aisle at them.

"Why are you following me?" they heard a voice ask.

They both looked down the aisle of rundown machinery, and saw the source: a man, not much older than they were, who could only be Derek Hale. He had black hair, and was wearing a form-fitting olive green Henley and black jeans over his muscular frame.

"We need to talk to you," Scott said, not the most reassuring statement as he was holding two very unfriendly looking knives.

"What if I don't want to talk?" Derek asked.

Scott began to advance towards him. "Well, that's not really an option."

"Yeah?" Derek asked, his face shifting as he brought his hands out in front of him, the ends of his fingers now tipped with claws. "We'll see about that."

Scott started to run, but when he got close, Derek kicked out with one leg, faster than either of them could follow, catching Scott in the stomach. Suddenly, Scott was flying back in the direction that he came, yelling and arms flailing. He crashed into some rusted metal barrels, having made it back almost the entire distance to where he had started from.

Undaunted, he quickly got up and started running towards Derek again, and there was no missing the surprise on Derek's face. Scott could do this all day, all week if he had to, and one way or another, he would eventually wear Derek out.

Derek tried to kick him again, but Scott was ready for it this time. Dodging to one side, he lashed out with a knife, raking it down Derek's calf. Derek roared out in anger and swiped, his clawed hand bashing into Scott's head. Scott crashed into the metal cupboard that was standing next to them. Unfazed, he lunged forward, burying one of his knives in Derek's gut.

Derek grabbed Scott and threw him over the cupboard, and then leapt on top of it. Looking up, he jumped with superhuman strength and grabbed the walkway above his head, pulling himself up as his blood dripped below.

Stiles blinked comically as Scott ran up to him. Scott glared angrily at Derek, who was bent over and holding his wounded stomach as he watched them below.

Derek squinted at Stiles and sniffed the air. "You reek of magic," he grunted out, as if Stiles had offended him somehow.

That was a surprise, Stiles thought, as he made a mental note of the fact that Derek could smell magic. He didn't realize that magic had a smell. Or, that the cards were magic. Though really, he was sure a kindergartener could have told him that, now that he thought about it. He shrugged casually. "Runs in the family. Why don't you come on down and have a closer look at my magic sword?"

“I can see it fine from up here,” Derek replied. Suddenly, his eyes flashed red, and Stiles brought his sword up in a defensive position.

"Whoa!" Stiles yelled out, peering cautiously over the edge of his blade. "You don't shoot lasers out of your eyes or anything, do you?"

Derek squinted at him, again, this time looking annoyed. "Actually, I do," Derek said. “Also, I can shoot lightning from my ass.”

“Hey, that’s a…” Stiles said, looking at Scott before turning back to Derek. “That’s a Braveheart reference!” he yelled, sounding impressed.

Scott quickly looked around, but couldn’t see an obvious way to get up to where Derek was. "Stiles, do something," he demanded.

Stiles sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out the Wheel of Fortune. Looking at it quizzically, he glanced up at Derek, then back at the card.

"I can work with this," he said, sounding like he was trying to give himself a pep talk. Holding the card up so that he could see it and Derek at the same time, he focused on the card, and the picture of the wheel started to spin. It spun faster and faster until it was just a blur of color, and then he shifted his focus to the walkway that Derek was standing on. Suddenly, there was a loud groaning of metal, a yell, and a horrific, thunderous crash. 

Scott stood resolutely watching the scene, as Stiles coughed up dust, doubled over with his hands on the sword hilt, and the point on the ground. Derek was on the floor, moaning and feebly trying to push himself off of the wreckage of twisted metal.

"What was that?" Scott asked.

Stiles coughed a final time and then looked up, squinting at Derek through the settling dust. "I aged the walkway by about a thousand years?"

"Nice," Scott said, nodding his approval and then walking towards Derek. He lifted Derek to his feet, and Derek tried to push him away, but Scott quickly twisted Derek's arm behind his back and lifted, causing Derek to gasp in pain. "Behave!" Scott ordered. 

Derek was too dazed to say anything back. 

After a while, Stiles realized Scott was giving him a look. "What?" Stiles asked, unable to keep the hint of annoyance out of his voice.

"We got him," Scott said, nodding his head towards Derek. "I'd like to go home now?"

"Oh, right!" Stiles said, reaching into his pocket again. This time, he pulled out the entire deck. As he gently tossed the deck away from himself, the individual cards streamed out, forming a line that arched up, and then back down, chasing after each other in an oval large enough for them to walk through. Arcs of blue electricity began to jump from card to card as they raced, and the area in the middle began to cloud over and glow. In a few short seconds, the cards had formed a portal that would take them back to headquarters. Stiles smiled at Scott and gestured at it, saying, "After you!" 

Scott smiled his thanks, and then manhandled Derek into the swirling smoke and light. Stiles followed after him and the portal began to shrink, cards swirling towards the center and disappearing as if they were being sucked into a whirlpool. Eventually, there was a just a single card left, spinning rapidly by itself, flipping and turning like a leaf in a dust devil. Then, with a snap and a crack, it too was gone, and the old factory became silent and dark.

 

~

 

Stiles walked through Sentry headquarters, shuffling his cards as he went. It was a nervous habit. He nodded at Erica and Boyd, who were quietly playing cards at a corner table. He smiled to himself and looked down. Playing cards with Boyd was never a good idea. Stiles might be able to get away with it, since cards were kind of his thing, but Boyd was basically a living time paradox, and more than likely already knew what cards Erica was holding in her hands. Of course, if she was really tricky, she might be able to cheat and phase cards to and from this dimension and Pan-Dran, the name she had given to the other dimension that she simultaneously occupied, though Boyd would probably see that coming, too.

Derek was being held in a room on the other side of the building, and Control had sent Stiles to go check on him. It had been two days since he and Scott had captured Derek, though he remained reticent and uncooperative, regardless of how much his dad tried to influence his mood. Stiles wondered if Derek's shape shifting ability also allowed him to shield his brain somehow from anything that Control tried to do. Flipping over the top card of the deck revealed the Five of Cups. It wasn't ideal, but the alternative was Derek being dead. Stiles just hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Lydia was sitting across the table from Derek when Stiles arrived. She was bouncing a small rubber ball on the floor, and just as Stiles stepped through the door, she caught it. With a flick of her wrist, she sent it flying through the air, bouncing from wall to wall, floor to ceiling, almost faster than Stiles could follow. He realized at the last second what was going to happen and gave a sympathy flinch when it smacked the back of Derek's head. Derek roared and surged forward, but his restraints stopped him just inches short of Lydia's face. She reached up almost casually to catch the ball with her left hand, then slapped Derek as hard as she could with her right, causing Stiles to flinch again. 

Lydia joined Sentry shortly after Stiles had, and he remembered how infatuated he had been with her when he first met her. She was spunky and smart and had long waves of strawberry blonde hair. He imagined that his mom was probably a lot like her. 

"Lyds," Stiles said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "Is that really necessary?"

She gave him a saccharine smile. "I'm just having a little fun." 

She started bouncing the ball again. Stiles eyed it warily.

"Still not talking?" Stiles asked, as he resumed his shuffling.

"Nope," Lydia replied, tossing the rubber ball so that it bounced off the table, thunked Derek in the forehead and then arched gracefully back into her waiting hand. 

Stiles grimaced and cautiously peered up at Derek's face. Stiles had heard the expression _if looks could kill_ before, but this was the first time he truly understood what it meant. If Derek managed to free himself, Lydia was a goner. Or, she would be if she wasn’t the ridiculously talented individual that she was. Given her ability to know down to the tiniest detail everything about everything within a fifty foot radius of her body, and how one small movement could set in motion a seemingly impossible chain of events resulting in almost any outcome she set her mind to, Derek would probably be incapacitated within a few seconds of getting free anyway.

Sighing, Stiles cut the deck, and flipped over the top card. Five of Cups. He pushed it towards the center of the table. Lydia's eyes went wide and almost without thinking, she caught the ball. Derek seemed to stiffen, sensing her sudden unease, and he sat up straight as if he was trying to put as much distance between himself and the card as possible.

"Is _that_ really necessary?" Lydia asked, echoing his words back to him.

She didn't know the cards like Stiles did, no one could, but Lydia was the smartest person he knew. In her spare time, she had taken it upon herself to learn as much as she could about the practice of tarot. Working with Stiles, she had helped him to come up with several new ways to use the cards that he might never of thought of on his own, and she knew the basics of what each card could do, even if she couldn't manipulate them herself.

"It's either that, or you torture him into submission," he said, glancing at the rubber ball in her hand, "which I'm guessing would take a really long time."

Scoffing, she resumed bouncing it on the floor. "I'd hardly call it torture. We're just having a little fun, aren't we Derek?" she asked, tossing the ball again. It buzzed Derek's head several times as it bounced around the room, though it didn't actually hit him. She laughed as she caught the ball.

"You're really sick, you know that?" Stiles asked, shuffling the Five of Cups back into the deck. He cut the deck and flipped the top card again. Five of Cups.

"Me?" Lydia asked incredulously. "I'm not the one threatening to wipe his memory!"

"What?!" Derek exclaimed, pulling at his restraints again, only this time he was trying to get away from them, rather than attack.

Stiles raised a sardonic eyebrow at him. "Oh, so now you wanna talk?"

"Keep your filthy cards away from me, you freak!" Derek spat at him, his features shifting towards wolf.

"I'm the freak?" Stiles said, laughing to himself as he picked up the Five of Cups. "Have you looked in a mirror lately? You're, like, an actual werewolf! Hair actually sprouts out of the sides of your face when you get mad!" He slammed the card down in front of Derek, who averted his gaze and tried to shrink from it.

"You have two options here, buddy!" Stiles said, jabbing his finger at the card. "You can either join our team willingly, or I can make you! The choice is yours."

"Or, we can just kill you," Lydia added, unhelpfully.

Stiles rolled his eyes and sighed, giving Lydia a death glare that he knew wasn't nearly as intimidating as Derek's had been. Lydia gave him a self-satisfied smile.

"Look," Stiles said, softening his approach. "I don't want to have to do this to you, but you either have to join up, or we have to get rid of you. We really don't have choice."

Derek turned to look him straight in the eye. "There's always a choice."

Stiles swallowed and blinked as he tried to suppress that stubborn feeling of guilt that was rising up inside of him again, but he didn't look away. "Between my dad and I," he began, as if Derek hadn't said anything, "we can erase your past and give you a new one. All new memories. It'll be like you've always been here, and you'll be as happy as a clam. I'd rather not do that, but I will." Stiles' look was harder than he felt.

Derek squinted at him. "How do you know I won't kill you all the first chance I get?"

Stiles leaned back in his chair. "If you really think you could pull that off, then you're even dumber than you look." He flipped the deck over so that the cards were face up, and fanned them across the table in a line in front of Derek. Standing up, he braced his hands on the table and leaned over the cards, looking Derek in the eye. "Besides, do you really think you could hide anything from me?" 

Derek resolutely returned his gaze, not answering his question. All three turned as the door opened. It was Sage, and right behind her, Control. Stiles immediately felt the tension in the room disappear, and made eye contact with his dad. John smiled at him, and nodded his head slightly for him to continue.

"So, how's everything going in here?" Melissa asked. 

Regardless of the fact that she had spent most of her life as a Sentry operative, albeit retired from the field now, Sage was first and foremost, a mom. Namely, Scott’s mom. She walked behind Derek and rubbed his back with the palm of her hand. He glanced down in surprise as the wounds he had given himself by pulling on the restraints instantly healed. 

"All better?" she asked, as Derek frowned at his wrists. He didn't answer her.

Sage pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. "Look, Derek," she began, folding her hands together, "we only want what's best for you. You can't just be on your own out there. People will try to hurt you, do bad things to you."

"I know about people trying to hurt me," he replied, eyeing Stiles and Lydia angrily.

Melissa sighed and shook her head. "They're just trying to help you, too. The world is a dangerous place, especially for people like us. People don't understand, they get scared and do irrational things. It's better if you're here, with us."

"What if I don't want to be here with you?" Derek challenged.

"Then we can make it so that you will," Stiles answered back. His dad came up behind him and squeezed his shoulder.

"What my son, here, is trying to say is that we have methods to make you cooperate," Control said, bringing the full force of his abilities to bear on the situation. "We'd rather not use them, but we will if you force our hand."

Stiles watched as Derek's features relaxed. There were few people in the world who could say no to his dad, especially after a few days of being softened up.

"Do we have a deal?" John asked, holding out his hand towards Derek.

Derek regarded the offered hand for a while before a look of resignation crossed his face. Eventually, he lifted his hand-cuffed hands, and shook hands with John. Lydia threw the rubber ball again, hitting one of the handcuffs squarely near the keyhole. Derek blinked in surprise when it popped open and fell off his wrist.

"You know, we have keys for those, right?" Stiles asked rhetorically. 

Lydia just shrugged and caught the ball again.

John clapped Derek on the back. "I'll leave you here with these two fine ladies who can answer any questions you might have and help get you settled in." Moving towards the door, he looked at Stiles. "Ace, can I see you outside, please?"

Stiles nodded and picked up his cards, following his dad out the door. "What's up?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

"I just wanted to say good job again on bringing in the shape shifter," Control said, smiling at him, "Also, I want you to keep an eye on him. Look out for him, make sure he learns the ropes."

Stiles groaned. "Babysitting duty?! Why me! Why not Scott? Isn't that, like, part of his job?"

Control smiled and grabbed Stiles' shoulder. Though he was waiting for it, he didn't sense his dad using his mood altering abilities on him. "Just trust me on this, son. I have a feeling that you and Derek are gonna be really good together. You can both learn a lot from each other."

Stiles squinted at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just do it," John said, walking away now. "That's an order."

~

Razor sighted down the length of the arrow, taking a deep breath. The target was on the opposite side of the training room, fifty yards away. Unlike the others, she was not part of Sentry because she was born with supernatural abilities. Her skills had been developed during years of training and thousands of hours of practice. She knew about the whispers of how she might be actually be a super, either hiding her abilities or somehow unaware of them. There was simply no way someone could be that good of a shot. Not to mention the fact that supernatural abilities ran in her family.

She released the string as she released her breath, the arrow striking the exact center of the target. She smiled. Let them think what they wanted; her abilities were the result of hard work. If they looked like something more, it was only a testament to how dedicated she was to her craft.

Drawing another arrow, she notched it in her bow and drew. She released more quickly this time, getting into the rhythm of the practice, and the arrow split her previous arrow in three. Smiling in satisfaction, she closed her eyes and drew again, letting her muscle memory act as her guide. Notch, pull, release. When she opened her eyes, she saw that the third arrow had split the second one. It had taken her years to reach this level of marksmanship, and she practiced every day to make sure she stayed that way.

She turned her head to the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. They were light, but the person who was walking was doing nothing to soften them, nor was the tread that of someone trained for stealth. It was the gait of someone who couldn't care less about anyone hearing them. There was only one person who walked like that: Stiles.

With the exception of Ghost, who was literally not completely part of this world, she could identify any of her teammates by the way they walked. Control's footsteps were confident and sure. Bastion, trained for stealth as Allison was, walked lightly, but she could always hear him coming if she was paying attention. Glitch's footsteps were irregular. Her ability to figure out who was coming by the sound of their footsteps was just one more thing that added to her mystique.

She shot three arrows in rapid succession, each hitting the center of a different target at the other end of the room. The last one hit just as Stiles poked his head inside.

"Get in here, Ace," she said, not bothering to turn to look at him. She could almost feel him flinch in surprise. "I need something a little more challenging than targets."

Stiles stepped into the room. "I'm not letting you shoot at me again," he said, shuffling his ever-present deck of cards.

Allison turned to him, arrow drawn, and released. He raised an arm, almost without thinking, one of his cards palmed in his hand, and the arrow hit the card square on. There was a spark and the sound of metal hitting metal, as the arrow bounced off the card and fell to the floor.

"Ow!" Stiles whined, shaking the hand that the arrow had hit. "That hurt! I told you I didn't want you to shoot at me!"

Allison flashed her biggest smile at him. "No one said you had to hold the card in your hand."

Stiles gave her an angry frown. "I didn't have time to think about it. I wasn't expecting an arrow to come flying at my face!"

Allison raised an eyebrow at him until he finally rolled his eyes and sighed. 

"Okay, fine," he said, shaking his head. "I do always expect arrows flying at my face whenever I’m in here with you."

"Good," Allison said, quickly drawing and firing another arrow at him.

He raised his hand again, only this time, the card was floating a few inches in front of his palm, so that when the arrow struck, it didn't hurt.

"See?" Allison said, dropping her arm so that the bow was hanging, seemingly harmless, at her side. "When you do it right, it doesn't hurt."

Allison had trained extensively with Stiles for years, both to improve her aim and to improve his defensive skills. She shot all kinds of things at him, from arrows and crossbow bolts, to spears and even bullets. Now, as long as he was even the tiniest bit focused and he had his cards out, he could protect himself from almost any projectile. But, it didn't mean that he liked being shot at. 

He pressed his lips together into an angry line. "I'm serious, Allison. I'm not in the mood."

She huffed and set her bow down on the table. "Well, you're in _some_ kind of mood. What's got _your_ panties in a bunch?"

Stiles sighed, and shook his head. "It's not important. I just came down here to blow off some steam."

Allison cocked her head to the side, and smiled sweetly. "You could shoot at _me_ if you want."

"Are you crazy?" Stiles scoffed. "Do you have a death wish, or something?"

Opening a drawer, she pulled out a deck of normal playing cards. "You can use these," she said, holding out the cards for him to take.

He let her place the cards in the palm of his hand, eying her uncertainly the whole time. When he was using the cards from his tarot deck, he could slice through steel plate at twenty feet. But, even with a deck of regular playing cards, he could throw hard enough to cut through a two by four. He couldn't channel his will through other cards in the same way that he could through his tarot deck, but other cards still responded to him in ways that they just didn't with other people. It was something he had figured out early on, and he had honed his card throwing in much the same way that Allison had worked on shooting with a bow. They often trained together, shooting side by side until they were both exhausted and sore.

"Okay, fine," he said, cutting his tarot deck with one hand, and flipping it over to reveal the bottom card. It was the Two of Swords, with a picture of a man holding two swords crossed in front of him. Stiles used his thumb to slide the card off the deck and held it between his thumb and index finger, while he tucked the rest of the deck into his shirt pocket. Holding the card up to his mouth, he whispered, his breath moving gently across its surface as it became warm and began to hum and glow. "Here," he said, tucking it into her pocket. "Just in case you miss."

Allison rolled her eyes, but let him do it, knowing he wouldn't play along otherwise, even though they both knew she never missed. Stiles reached into his pocket as he walked across the room, pulling out the Nine of Wands. He held it to his lips, whispering until it also hummed and glowed, just like the Two of Swords, then put it back into his pocket. Allison wasn't going to be aiming at him, but he didn't want to take any chances.

When he reached the other side of the room, he turned to face her. "Ready?" he yelled.

Allison nodded and notched an arrow. Stiles lifted a card up to his chest, holding it between his middle and index fingers. He flicked it at Allison, taking a step forward and spinning it hard, like a Frisbee. She easily shot it out of the air, and Stiles grabbed another card and flicked it at her. Stiles threw card after card at her for nearly ten minutes, not worried about actually hitting her, knowing that she was protected by the Two of Swords in her pocket. That, and the fact that he had never seen her miss a target. 

He held up his hand when he felt his deck pulling at him. 

"What is it?" Allison asked, an arrow notched and at the ready. 

"Something's wrong," he said, jogging up to the table. "I need the card I gave you," he said, holding out his hand.

She handed it to him, and he quickly shuffled it into the deck. The deck wanted him to do a reading, and it wanted him to do it fast. He didn't have time for anything fancy, so he did a quick three-card spread. The first card was the Knight of Cups, then The Tower, and finally, the Six of Swords. Stiles squinted at the cards, huffed, and scowled.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," he said, shuffling the deck back together.

"What's going on?" Allison asked.

"It's Derek," Stiles said, peeling off the top card. "He's making a run for it."

"Oh!" Allison said, her eyes opening wide. "We need to stop him!"

"Don't worry," Stiles said, holding up the Five of Wands. "This should slow him down."

He flicked the card at the door, and it zipped through the air and down the hall. As it disappeared, they could hear the excited yipping of at least a dozen foxes, eager barking and scuffling feet echoing back at them from the otherwise empty corridor. Stiles took off after them, trusting them to lead the way to wherever Derek was, probably getting lost in their maze of a headquarters.

"Shouldn't we let the others know?" Allison asked, close behind him.

"He won't get far," Stiles said, watching as a fluffy red tail disappeared around the corner. "He doesn't know where he's going, and the foxes should keep him busy until we get there."

They rounded the corner, and ran down three halls, down a flight of stairs, and across a courtyard. They couldn't hear the foxes anymore, but Stiles knew exactly where they were. He drew the Ace of Swords out of his pocket, readying it in his hand. Bursting through a door into another corridor, they found Derek, almost fully wolfed out, trying to fight off a hoard of bouncing, yipping, overly enthusiastic red foxes. 

Reaching into his pocket, he drew the Four of Pentacles. With a flick of his wrist, it flew past Derek, and came to rest on the floor. Suddenly, the hall was filled with a deafening roar as the huge form of a dragon erupted from the card. Stiles made a self-satisfied smile as Derek's eyes went wide and he turned to the face the enormous, green, scaly beast whose massive body barely fit within the confines of the hallway. 

"A dragon?" Allison whispered harshly in disbelief. "Subtlety really isn't your thing, is it?" Her bow suddenly felt unnecessary, though Stiles still felt the need to be holding onto his giant broadsword.

"He needs to know we mean business," he replied, taking a step forward. 

The foxes had disappeared, but the dragon was huffing at Derek. Its enormous head hung heavy at the end of a long sinewy neck, as its eyes intelligently regarding the much smaller human in front of it. Derek turned to face Stiles, apparently believing that the dragon wouldn't hurt him. His eyes flashed red again, and Stiles couldn't help but reflexively flinch.

"You can't keep me here," Derek proclaimed, his fingers extending into claws. 

"Oh, well I have a dragon here that says that I can," Stiles replied, taking another step forward. 

"It's just one of your tricks," Derek spat, "just like your sword."

"Maybe," Stiles said, stopping now, "but my tricks are pretty sharp. I can have the dragon bite you, if you don't believe me. His name's George, and he hasn't eaten anything in a while. I think he likes you."

The dragon's head moved forward to sniff at Derek, and Derek ducked down and lurched forward. Stiles laughed.

"Look," Stiles said, lowering his sword, "you said you would stay. It hasn't even been a whole day yet, and you're already trying to run away? It's not so bad here, really. And, it beats the alternative."

"Oh, yeah?" Derek asked. "What's that?"

"We already discussed this," Stiles said, nodding his head towards Allison. "Razor can put an arrow through that thick skull of yours, or I can empty it out for you with my cards. Trust me when I say that neither one of us wants to do that."

"Why do you want me here, anyway?" Derek asked, seemingly more confused and suspicious now than angry. "I can smell the magic pouring off of you, it's almost suffocating. You can do whatever you want. You don't need me."

"It wasn't our choice to bring you in," Stiles said. "We just do what we're told. My guess is they wanted a fighter to round out our team."

Derek's eyes quickly moved to Allison and then back to Stiles. "What about her?" he asked, "And, that other guy that was with you when you caught me? And, you with that crazy sword you're always carrying around? You have more fighters than you need."

"You're right, in a way," Stiles said, "but as you like to keep pointing out, I'm a magic user." He flourished his sword and it snapped back into its card form. "Razor's not a super, and Bastion doesn't have any special abilities besides not being able to get hurt. My guess is that the powers-that-be decided we needed someone who was stronger, as in physically. A brawler. But, that's just a guess. For all I know, they could have just found out about you and then decided to just stick you with us for no reason at all. But, all of that is beside the point. You said you would stay."

"I only said that because of that mumbo jumbo crap your dad did to me," Derek replied. "And, you were threatening to erase my memories."

Stiles shoulders dropped. "I'm sorry about that. I was just trying to scare you."

"You mean you weren't gonna do it?" Derek challenged.

Stiles sighed and shrugged. "I didn't want to. I don't. But, I will if you make me. The government won't let you just live your life unsupervised. Not as a super. They keep tabs on all of us, you know? To make sure we don’t abuse our powers. Most people don't really know how many of us are actually out there. They'd be afraid if they did."

Derek stared at him, not saying anything. Allison wanted to interject, but as the non-super aiming the arrow at him, she thought her words would do more harm than good.

Stiles set his mouth into a firm line. "You can't run away from me. I can find you wherever you go. What do I have to do to prove that to you?"

Derek gave him a mischievous, almost playful, grin. "You could let me go and try to catch me again."

Shaking his head slowly, Stiles answered, "You know I can't do that. Sentry is a good team, and we're good at what we do. I think if you gave us a chance, you might actually like it here."

"Let me guess," Derek said, bitterly, "you fight against supers that refuse to tow the party line."

Stiles let his eyes drop, and then raised them to meet Derek's again. "Yes. But, it's more than that. We help people."

"Like you're helping me?" Derek asked. He turned to look at the dragon behind him and at the arrow that Allison still had trained on his every movement, then let his features recede until he looked like a normal person again. "Fine," he said, annoyed but resigned. "I'll join your stupid team."

"We're gonna have to escort you back to your room and report this to Control," Stiles said. "Protocol for a newbie trying to run away."

Derek glared at Stiles, but said nothing. Stiles and Allison stepped to the side so that Derek could get past them. Stiles held his hand out towards the dragon, its form disintegrating and shrinking back down into the card that it came from, as it flew back to him. He shuffled it into the deck as he followed behind Allison, who kept her arrow notched and pointed towards the surly wolf man as they walked. This guy was going to be a handful, Stiles thought, and he didn't know how long his patience was going to hold out.


	2. Swords

Derek lay on the bed in his room. Or, his cell, as he liked to think of it, though to be fair his door wasn't even closed, let alone locked, right now. He let his claws grow as he stared up at the ceiling, then pulled them back in, grew them out, and retracted them again. The pain of the shift helped to steady him, somehow. He breathed a long-suffering sigh. How had he gotten himself into this mess? It was all because of that Stiles kid, he thought. Ace, or whatever it was that he called himself. Him and his stupid cards. 

Derek had always thought there was something vaguely unclean about magic. It just wasn't natural. Not that he got along that well with people who didn't use magic, either. Centuries of persecution against his family for being shape shifters had naturally made them wary of the people around them. His family was, after all, the reason that werewolf mythology was so prevalent on the European continent.

It came from his mother's side. His father had been a fire starter. His younger sister, Cora, was a shape shifter, like him, but his older sister, Laura, had inherited neither ability. Instead, she had been a telepath, though it hadn't been enough to save her. He thought back to that horrible night 15 years ago, the way Laura had woken him up out of a dead sleep and had used her abilities to hurl him through the window, throwing his body almost a half mile into the woods. 

By the time he had made it back to the house, it was engulfed in flames. He had tried to get back inside, but the fire was too hot. He couldn't save them. So he waited, hidden among the trees, watching as the firefighters arrived to combat the flames. Even after the firefighters had left, and the house was nothing but a smoldering ruin, he waited, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, some member of his family would miraculously appear. His father had been a fire starter, he thought to himself, fire was like air to him! There's no way he could have died! But, no one came out of the house. He had been alone ever since.

And, he had been doing okay. Not great, by any stretch of the imagination, but he usually had enough food to eat. He was able to hunt, after all, and he wasn't all that picky about whether his meat was cooked or not. And, he usually managed to find a place to stay at night, even if it was just a cave, or an abandoned shack. He didn't need people. He didn’t need anybody.

But now, he was stuck with these people. These people who were freaks, like him. His eyes flashed red in anger at the thought of Stiles tracking him, as if he was weak! As if he was prey! If it wasn’t for his stupid cards, he would tear the boy limb from limb! He pounded the mattress with a fist in frustration. The first chance he got, he was out of there! And, if he had to kill Stiles, Ace, to do it, then that's what he would do!

Derek sat up suddenly, raising one eyebrow curiously. He felt the sudden urge to go to the briefing room. Not having anything else to do, he decided to go with his gut and see what there was to see. 

He walked cautiously, sniffing the air as he went. He could smell all of them, to a degree. Ace and Razor were the most distinct, as they were the ones who had brought him back to his room. Thinking of Stiles made him angry again, and he breathed deep to help him distinguish the source of that anger. He could smell the mint and eucalyptus of the shampoo that Stiles used, as well as the hamburger and curly fries he'd eaten for lunch. Beneath all of that was the faint smell of iron and salt, musk and water. Boy smells. But mainly, he smelled magic. He wrinkled his nose. Magic smelled like wet asphalt on a summer day, like eraser dust and the strike of a match. It smelled like nutmeg and honey, candle wax and copper. Like opening a dust covered trunk in your grandmother's attic. Stiles smelled like sand on the beach and warm clothes being pulled from the dryer. Derek's nose twitched.

He paused in the doorway of the briefing room, surprised to see Control standing at the head of the table, and Sage standing next to him. Scott, Allison, Lydia, and Boyd all turned to look when they heard him arrive. He tried not to blink too hard when Erica phased through the wall and sat down.

"You going in?" Stiles asked from behind him.

Derek missed Lydia's smirk when he closed his eyes and tried to steady his suddenly racing heart. It was only the shock of seeing everyone in the briefing room that had allowed Stiles to sneak up on him. He opened his eyes, but didn't answer Stiles' question.

Stiles placed a hand on Derek's shoulder, and Derek turned to glare at it. "Don't worry," Stiles said. "The first time is always a little weird. You get used to it."

Derek had to visibly restrain himself from rolling his eyes. "Get used to what?" he gritted through his teeth.

"My dad calling us all to the briefing room," he answered, squeezing past Derek, his slim body rubbing up against Derek as he went. "He's old fashioned," Stiles continued as he plopped down into a chair and began shuffling his cards, "Doesn't like to use the P.A. system."

Stiles grinned obnoxiously at his dad, who returned the smile with an annoyed smirk of his own. Then, Control looked up at Derek.

"Silver," he said, gesturing at an empty chair. "Please, join us."

Derek jerked his head back in surprise. "Who? Me?"

Control's smile softened. "I took the liberty of choosing a codename for you. It seemed to fit your whole," he kind of waved vaguely at Derek with his hand, "persona. You can pick a different one if it doesn't suit you."

Derek scowled, but didn't answer. All eyes turned to Control as Derek stalked into the room and sat down in a chair. John gave him a small smile and a nod, and then cast his glance around the room.

"We've been contacted by the Bureau of Superhuman Affairs," he said. "There's a problem with one of the other teams."

"Which one?" Lydia asked, worry clear in her eyes.

"The Guard," Control said, turning towards her.

Lydia's eyes went wide, but she didn't say anything. Allison turned to her and placed a hand on her arm before turning back to John. "Did something happen?" Allison asked.

Control frowned. "I'm going to let your father explain," he said, looking down and pressing a button on the table. The huge monitor that took up over half of the wall behind him came to life with the giant face of Chris Argent looking down at them.

"Dad?" Allison asked, worried now, just as Lydia was.

"Hello, Allison," he said, looking at her, and then looking around the room. He paused when he came to Derek. "I see our newest member is getting settled in?"

"Senator Argent," Control said, gesturing at Derek, "this is Derek Hale, codename Silver. Derek, this is Senator Christopher Argent. He heads up the task force that oversees all government sponsored superhuman groups, the Bureau of Superhuman Affairs."

Derek looked very unimpressed.

"I've read your file, Mr. Hale," Chris said. "I'm hoping you can help us with a little problem we're having."

"This is about The Guard?" Lydia asked.

Chris sighed. "Yes. We tried to make contact with them two days ago, but got no response, and we haven't been able to reestablish contact since. We need to send a team to their headquarters to find out what happened."

"Why do you need us to go?" John asked, confused. "Can't you just send an agent to knock on their door?"

"The location of their headquarters is top secret, just like yours," Chris answered. "We don't like sharing that information with a lot of people, and our feeling is that we're going to need more than a simple look-see. I understand you have a teleporter on your team?"

They all looked at each other in confusion until Stiles raised his hand. "Um, I guess you're talking about me?"

"Can you get a team over to The Guard headquarters?" Chris asked.

"Yes," Stiles answered.

Chris looked up at Control and Sage. "I'm going to need everyone to clear the room while I give the address to Ace."

"No need," Stiles said, cutting anyone off before they could respond. "The Guard headquarters. That's all I need to know."

Chris narrowed his eyes at him, then turned back to John. "I'll let you choose the team. Keep it small, just three or four. Let me know what you find out. I'll be expecting to hear from you within the hour."

The screen went blank and Lydia stood up, "I'll go!" 

"No," John said. "You're too close to this. So are you, Allison. He looked at the other team members as he called out their codenames, "Bastion, Silver, Ace, and Ghost. Prep to go. Meet in the training room in five minutes. I want you on the ground in six."

Scott and Erica immediately got up from their seats and left. Stiles shuffled his cards and turned to Derek. "Come on big guy. Let's get to the training room."

 

~

 

Stiles had the portal open and ready to go by the time Erica and Scott made it there. Having been through one of Stiles' portals once before, Derek knew that it was essentially like walking through a door from one room into another, none of the strange dizzying sensations one might expect to have when passing through what essentially amounted to a magical worm hole. Still, he eyed the swirling, lightning-shot plane of smoke warily.

Scott strode through to the portal, both knives sheathed at his hips, and Erica followed. Stiles turned to Derek expectantly. 

"You can go first," Derek said.

Stiles laughed. "I always go last. Just to make sure nothing happens with the portal. Don't worry, I'll be right behind you."

Derek squinted at him. Whether or not Stiles followed after him was the last thing he was worried about. Derek jerked his head from shoulder to shoulder and took a deep breath. He stepped into the portal. As promised, Stiles popped out immediately after him. His cards where piling into his outstretched hand as the portal disappeared, until there was only one left, spinning and fluttering like a leaf on the end of a spider web. With an audible pop, it seemed to unstick itself, joining its brethren in the palm Stiles' hand.

"That last one is always so stubborn," Stiles commented to himself, smiling at the cards lovingly. He looked up at Scott. "Lead on, fearless leader."

Scott huffed a laugh and began walking down the hall. There was carpet on the floor, which Stiles found surprising for some reason. There wasn't a shred of carpet to be found anywhere in Sentry headquarters. The hallway was wide and well lit. There was artwork on the walls, which were painted a soft shade of beige. There was a ficus. Everything at Sentry headquarters was cold steel and concrete. They were allowed to decorate their rooms however they liked, not that Stiles had done much with his, but all of the common areas were shiny chrome and matte grey, blinking electronics and exposed ceiling pipes. The Guard headquarters looked like a business office.

"Silver," Scott said, not bothering to turn around, "do you smell anything?"

Derek furrowed his brow in annoyance. "What am I supposed to be smelling for?"

Bastion shrugged. "I don't know. Anything weird?"

Against his better judgment, Derek stuck his nose in the air and sniffed. His eyes went wide momentarily before he was able to school his features into a more neutral expression. 

"What's wrong?" Stiles asked, staring at him.

"Blood," Derek answered. "I smell blood."

Bastion held up his hand, signaling everyone to stop. He turned around and looked at Stiles. "There should have been some kind of warning, alerting them the instant we stepped into their base. If anyone showed up at Sentry headquarters like this, alarms would be blaring by now. I don't like it, and Derek smelling blood isn't making me like it any better. You should do a reading before we go any further."

Stiles nodded, and seeing no tables nearby, plopped down cross-legged on the floor. He shuffled his cards, muttering a blessing under his breath, like his dad said that his mother always did before a reading. Dragons and magic spells notwithstanding, readings were actually the hardest thing to do and do right. Compared to a reading, turning a card into a broadsword was actually pretty straightforward. Readings involved nuance and intuition, things he wasn't always that great at.

The other thing that made readings difficult was that he had to purposely lose track of where the cards were in the deck. Tracking them made it too easy for him to subconsciously influence the way the cards fell, which would corrupt the reading. He shuffled and prayed, clearing his mind as he breathed. When he was confident that he and the deck were ready, he began to lay out the cards.

The others crowded around him, as he laid out six cards facedown in a star pattern. Again, it was something that his dad said his mother did, and not a layout you would ever see by going to a fortuneteller. Normally, he used this pattern to do a reading on a single person, but he was reasonably sure it would work for a group of people as well.

The cards formed a five-pointed star, with the sixth card at the center. He started by flipping over the card at the top. Stiles pressed his lips together.

"That can't be good," Erica commented.

"It's not," Stiles said, narrowing his eyes at the card. "The top of the star represents the spiritual aspect. The devil is pretty much the worst card that can show up there. It represents deceit and manipulation. Someone is being controlled, which means someone is doing the controlling. Someone is being forced to do things against their will."

He flipped over the next card, going clockwise. "Judgment. This part of the star represents the intellectual aspect. People's fates are being decided." He looked up at Derek. "Based on what you said you smelled, judgment may have already found them."

Derek stood up straight and took a step back. That the cards made him uncomfortable was an understatement. The fact that they seemed to be saying some pretty horrible things was only making it worse, and so far, Stiles had only flipped over one-third of the layout.

Stiles took a deep breath and flipped over the third card, on the bottom right. "Six of Wands."

"That one doesn't look so bad," Erica said.

Stiles shook his head. "This is the subconscious. The people involved are power hungry. They'll do whatever it takes to get what they want."

"Okay, you need to hurry up," Scott said. "Nothing you've said so far is making me think we're going to like what we're going to find, but it sounds like we need to find it like yesterday."

Stiles nodded, and quickly and turned over the bottom left card. "This is the emotional aspect. Three of Swords. Betrayal."

Erica pursed her lips in concern and looked down the hallway as if she could see through the walls. She turned back to see Stiles turn over the last of the five cards that formed the five points of the star. 

"Ten of Swords in the material aspect. There was a struggle here, a fight. The Guard has been broken," he said, peering down at the five cards.

"What about the card in the middle?" Derek asked, pointing, his curiosity pulling him forward again.

"If I was doing a reading on a person, this would represent the personal aspect, basically the card would represent the person as a whole," he said as he flipped the card over. "But, this card represents The Guard as a group. It's The Tower," he said, looking up at Scott. "Catastrophic change. The Guard as we know it is gone. I'm not gonna lie to you; this is one of the ugliest layouts I have ever seen in my life. It's giving me chills just looking at it. Whatever we find, it's not going to be pretty."

"Are we in any danger?" Scott asked. "What are we gonna find ahead of us?"

Stiles concentrated as he held his hand out over the cards. He shook his head. "What happened to The Guard is already done, we can't stop it. Whatever did this, did it and left, so hopefully that means we should be okay. But, we can't be too careful," he said, scooping up his cards and standing up. 

He cut the deck, flipped over the top card and smiled grimly. It was the Ace of Swords. Holding it up, Scott smiled, too. Even he knew what that card did. 

Stiles was about to put the rest of the cards in his pocket, but decided against it. Readings were tricky, and he hadn't given the reading as much time as he should have. Plus, he had done the reading on The Guard, not on Sentry. Although he hadn't sensed any danger, danger was not outside the realm of possibility. It never was.

"I don't get it," Derek said from behind him as they walked. "How were you able to figure out all of that stuff by just looking at a couple of cards?" How he managed to sound impressed and dismissive at the same time was a gift, to be sure.

Stiles smirked over his shoulder. "I can show you after we get back," he offered. 

Instead of answering, Derek glared at the back of Stiles' head. He was just curious, nothing more. He didn’t want to be around Stiles or his cards any more than he absolutely had to.

Scott held up a hand, signaling for everyone to be quiet. He drew his knives, and Erica faded a little bit, taking on a translucent quality. They all stepped into what looked like a conference room, with a huge, polished wooden table in the middle and big black leather chairs all around it. The smell of blood and rot was overwhelming Derek's senses, and even the others could smell that something wasn't right.

"Over there," Stiles said, pointing at what seemed to be a missing chair in the otherwise unbroken line of chairs on the other side of the conference table. 

If Derek was smelling right, that was exactly where the scent was coming from. Scott jumped up on the table and ran across it, his face blanching as he skidded to a halt near the edge.

"What is it?" Erica asked, ghosting through the table. She too paused when she saw what was over there, gasping and bringing her hand to her mouth.

Stiles glanced at Derek and resolutely walked around the table in a more conventional manner. Derek stayed at the entrance to the conference room. He didn't need to see what was over there. He could smell it perfectly fine right from where he was.

"That's Jackson," Stiles said, when he finally got close enough to see. "I think I'm gonna be sick," he said, turning to the side and bending over a little.

Erica was shaking her head slowly and tears were falling down her cheeks. She had stepped out of the table and was now standing next to Jackson's corpse. She was fully transparent now, having phased most of her mass into Pan-Dran in order to avoid having to smell the odor of death that had pervaded the conference room.

"Who's Jackson," Derek asked, taking a single step into the room, still unable to see, though his mind was using the smells to construct the most gruesome scenario possible.

Stiles fought against the urge to take a deep breath. "Jackson Whittemore," he gritted out. "Member of The Guard. Used to go out with Lydia." 

Screwing up his face, Stiles turned back to look at Jackson's body, sprawled out on the floor. Whatever had killed him had apparently taken him by surprise and had hit him with enough force to knock him and his chair over. It looked like he had died in a pool of his own blood, which was dry now, but his body was beginning to discolor, and the smell was horrifying. 

"I don't understand," Erica said, looking around the room as she wiped her tears away. Derek was standing behind her now, eyes glued to the corpse. Looking through her somehow made seeing Jackson's dead body easier to handle. "There's no sign of a struggle," she continued, "no sign that there was any fighting at all. What could do this? If he'd even had half of an idea that he was in danger, Berserker would have come out, and no one would have been able to kill him like this."

"Who's Berserker?" Derek asked, his eyes never leaving Jackson.

"Jackson had an alternate personality," Scott said, still standing on the table. "His name was Berserker, or Mr. Berserker, as he liked to be called." 

There was a ghost of a smile on Scott's lips as he said it. He and Jackson had never gotten along, and he had liked Berserker even less, but they had fought together multiple times, and Berserker certainly had a personality on him. Despite his best efforts to the contrary, he had developed a fondness for both of them over the years. But now, they were gone.

"Berserker was actually the one with the special abilities," Scott continued, turning to face Derek. "He was crazy, if you could call being crazy an ability. He was fast, and he fought dirty, and Erica's right, you couldn't stop him, and you'd never catch him sitting down like this if he knew you were coming for a fight."

"It had to've been someone he knew, then," Stiles added. "That's what the cards said: betrayal."

"Let's keep going," Scott said, hopping off the table. "We need to see if we can find out what happened."

Erica nodded grimly and followed him out of the conference room through a door opposite the one they had entered. Derek brought up the rear again, and just as the smell from Jackson was beginning to fade, there was another similar smell coming from up ahead. He said as much, and Scott tried to steel his nerves as he pressed forward. Allison's grandfather and aunt were both members of The Guard. It was bad enough they had to tell Lydia about Jackson. He couldn't imagine what he would say to Allison if he found any of her family members dead as well.

Derek caught up to Scott to help guide them to where he assumed they would find another body. He stopped in front of a closed door. "The smell's coming from in here," he said.

Scott nodded and grabbed the doorknob, opening it slowly and sending a waft of rot-scented air into everyone's faces. Stiles brought his wrist up to his nose and took a step back.

It was obvious that that they had found someone's bedroom, and even in the dark, they could see the body lying on the floor. Scott groped for a light switch. When the lights came on, they saw a scene very similar to what they had found in the conference room: a body, approximately three days old, lying in a pool of dried blood. 

"No signs of a struggle," Scott said. "Same as Jackson."

"Do you know who that is?" asked Derek.

"Greenburg," Scott replied. "He was a speedster. You'd think if someone was trying to kill him, he would have gotten away."

"He probably knew the killer," Stiles mused. "Trusted them. It's the only way."

Scott nodded, and turned to Derek. "Do you smell anything else?"

Derek stepped back into the hallway and Scott followed him. After closing the door to Greenburg's bedroom, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I don't know how big the headquarters are for this Guard group, but the scent of decaying bodies travels pretty far, especially when I know to look for it. I don't smell anyone else."

"What about living people?" Erica asked. "Can you smell anyone alive?"

Derek closed his eyes and breathed deep. He shook his head. "Nothing recent."

"Let me guess," Stiles said. "Three days old?"

Derek gave him a considering look, then nodded.

"Maybe the others got away?" Erica said, hopefully, glancing around at Scott, Stiles and Derek. 

Scott nodded, but his face said otherwise. "I've seen enough," he said, looking at Stiles. "Get us back to headquarters, Ace. We need to tell them what we've found."

Stiles tossed the cards, almost numbly, and formed the portal. Scott stepped through it to find Lydia and Allison waiting for them. 

Lydia’s eyes widened in expectation, as she asked, “Jackson?”

“Lydia, don’t,” Scott replied, holding his hands up in front of him as if to stop her.

But, she was already scanning his body, listening to his heartbeat and respiratory rate. She checked his pupil dilation, blood pressure, hormone levels. She was probably even figuring out how much he was sweating.

Before coming to Sentry, Lydia had considered going into medicine. With adequate medical training, her abilities would allow her to accurately diagnose any condition almost immediately and with 100% accuracy. Of course, someone had discovered what she was capable of doing, and she had been brought in, her dreams of becoming a doctor like so much chaff in the wind. How the government found her, Scott didn’t know. For all that he had spent his entire childhood running around the halls of Sentry headquarters with Stiles, and his entire adult life as a Sentry operative, Scott still had no idea how the government was able to do the things that it did.

It all took less than a second. Lydia took in his posture and the twitching of his facial muscles; heck, she was probably even reading the electrical impulses that were firing along the neurons in his brain. He saw her eyes dart to his throat as he swallowed, causing his Adam’s apple to bob up and down.

Her eyes bright, she brought her hand up to her mouth to cover a whimper, and took off running down the hall. Scott and Allison silently watched her go until she disappeared around a corner.

Allison turned to Scott, her eyes red and tense. “Did you find my grandfather? Kate?”

Scott shook his head. She nodded grimly, and turned to follow Lydia as the rest of the team emerged from the portal.

“Come on,” Scott said, after Stiles stepped through. “We need to report in.”

The others followed him into the briefing room, where Glitch, Sage, and Control were waiting for them, along with the giant face of Chris Argent on the screen. Allison and Lydia were nowhere to be found.

“Lydia’s upset,” John said, addressing the returning team. “I take it you’re not bringing us good news?”

Scott took his seat, and clasped his hands in front of him, leaning on his elbows. “Berserker’s dead. Greenburg, too.”

“Any sign of the others?” Chris asked, his voice tinged with worry.

“No,” Scott answered.

“Darcy?” Chris pressed.

Scott shook his head.

Chris looked at John, and John nodded. Melissa bit her bottom lip, and tilted her head down, seemingly lost in thought.

“There’s really only two possibilities here, neither of them good,” Chris began, once again addressing the entire group. “Best case scenario, the remaining members of The Guard have been captured and are being held against their will.”

“Best case scenario?” asked Stiles, incredulously. “What’s the worst?”

“The Guard has gone rogue,” Chris answered.

“That’s not possible.”

Everyone turned to see Allison standing in the doorway.

“Allison,” Chris said softly in surprise.

“Grandpa and Kate would never do that,” she challenged. 

Chris took a breath and seemed to settle into his chair. “Allison, would you please take a seat?”

Crossing her arms, Allison glared at him and refused to move.

“Do you know what The Guard does?” Chris asked, not wanting to engage in a battle of wills with his daughter.

“They get sent on missions, like us,” Allison said, almost nonchalantly, “whatever the government tells them to do.”

“Whatever the government tells them to do,” Chris echoed back ominously. “There are over a dozen government-sponsored clandestine superhuman teams, each with their own mission parameters. Sentry’s objectives are pretty straightforward. Your job is to protect the nation against any and all threats, both conventional and supernatural. Vigil is our natural disaster response team. The Watch is the largest team, mostly comprised of lower level supers, with bases across the country. Their job is simple, to reduce the rate of crime in our largest cities.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Allison asked, almost angrily. “We already know this.”

“Do you know what The Guard does?” Chris asked again.

Allison shrugged. “They’re a counter-terrorist unit. They prevent terrorism.”

“True,” Chris said, nodding slowly. “But, they have a secondary objective, just like Sentry does. Your secondary objective is to find out why the number of supers has increased so dramatically in recent years, not to mention how much more powerful the abilities of those supers are.” He looked significantly at Stiles, though to be fair, Stiles wasn’t able to do anything that his mother couldn’t, and she was practically from a different era.

“It’s a fairly benign objective, if not well-known,” Chris continued. “Some people might get the wrong idea if they found out what you were up to.”

“What’s The Guard’s secondary objective?” Scott asked.

“To monitor the superhuman activities of other nations,” Chris answered. “And take action against them, if they are ever perceived as a threat,” he concluded, locking eyes with Allison. “They do the kinds of things you would never think about doing, and they were each chosen because they were either willing to do it, or morally compromised enough that it didn’t matter whether they wanted to do it or not.”

“I don’t believe you,” Allison said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

Chris’ eyes softened. “Do you know what your Aunt’s abilities are, Allison?”

Allison squeezed her eyes shut, and took a deep breath. “She’s a teleporter, like Stiles, except without all of the bells and whistles.”

Stiles looked vaguely insulted and gaped at her, but she ignored him.

“That’s partly correct,” Chris replied. “We’ve never been able to really categorize her, because her abilities are unique. Here at the Bureau, we tend to refer to her as a shadow walker.”

“What does that mean?” asked Stiles.

“It doesn’t really mean anything,” Chris said. “It’s just a term someone made up to describe what she does. She’s the only person we’ve ever encountered who can do what she does.”

“Which is what, exactly?” Allison pressed.

“She can step into shadows, and step out of them somewhere else,” Chris answered. “We haven’t tested her, mostly because she won’t let us, but we believe she can travel all the way to the other side of the planet if she wanted to. No wall can keep her out, no security system can stop her.”

“How is that even possible?” asked Scott.

“How is Ace able to do the things that he does?” Chris countered. “We can’t know for sure, but we believe her abilities are magical in nature, just like Stiles’. But, her ability to travel through shadows is just the tip of the iceberg. She can manipulate shadows with her mind, give them physical form and mold them into whatever shape she wants. She can turn shadows into weapons and armor. Once, she even told me should tell a shadow what to do, and it would do it, but I haven’t seen her use that ability myself.”

“Shade,” Allison said, under her breath.

“What?” asked Scott.

“Shade,” Allison repeated, louder this time. “My aunt’s codename. I never understood why she was called that before.”

Chris nodded. “Your Aunt is an assassin. Some political leader of a little third world nation gets a little too big for his britches and starts causing trouble? They send your Aunt Kate in to take care of him. Some super out there decides they want to try their hand at super villainy? Your Aunt Kate makes sure they never get the chance. Most of the time, the rest of the team doesn’t even have to lift a finger.”

He paused.

“Do you have any idea how hard it would be to capture someone like her?” Chris asked finally.

Allison looked him in the eye for a moment, then looked down. “Next to impossible.”

Chris nodded slowly as Allison finally took her seat. 

“The reason we have to assume the worst is because Darcy is missing,” Chris said. 

Allison raised her head curiously. “Grandpa’s pet? Why?”

“If someone was going to capture him, Darcy would have been left behind or killed,” Chris said. “Without an animal to control, your grandfather’s abilities are actually quite limited. Hypothetically, if someone was going to kidnap him, they would’ve done their research and they would know that Darcy would be the most dangerous animal for him to have around. The fact that she’s missing means that he probably wasn’t captured, and is most likely working with your aunt. We have to assume that Seraph and Zephyr have defected with them.”

“What about Jackson and Greenburg?” Scott asked. “Why kill them?”

“They weren’t part of the plan,” Allison replied, her voice hollow. “The rest of the team knew they wouldn’t go along with something like this, so they had to get rid of them.”

“What about their non-powered team member?” Stiles asked. “Isn’t every team supposed to have one of those?”

“Matthew Daehler,” Chris said. “Matt was a surveillance expert. If they have indeed gone rogue, it’s safe to assume he went with them.”

“So, what do you want us to do?” asked John.

“We have to assume the worst,” Chris said. “The remaining members of The Guard are now a threat to national security, and Sentry is the only group strong enough to take them down.”

Allison closed her eyes and swallowed.

“I know this won’t be easy for any of you,” Chris continued, “but there is too much at stake, and we can’t afford to waste any time. The capabilities of this team are second only to your own. If they have in fact turned against us, I cannot stress enough how dangerous each of these individuals are.”

“I think you’d better run through the roster and tell us what we’re dealing with, then,” John replied.

Chris nodded. “I’ve already told you all we know about Kate. Here’s what we know about Gerard…”

Allison was only half-listening as her father spoke. None of it seemed real. How could her grandfather do something like this? Her aunt? None of it made any sense.

~

Over the next few days, Stiles had slowly taken over a large part of the conference table in the briefing room, creating the largest and most complicated layout of tarot cards he had ever done in his entire life. He had used up over half of the deck, and would occasionally add a card or two, and sometimes remove others. He leaned over the layout, uncharacteristically quiet as he tried to focus and glean some kind of meaning from what he was seeing. The others quickly learned to give the room a wide berth as they were each subjected to the razor edge of his tongue whenever his temper flared and he would take out his frustration on them. 

On day number three, once again giving in to his curiosity, Derek found himself hovering in one of the entryways.

“What do you want?” Stiles ground out, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

Derek grinned. Pissing off Stiles was one of the few things he actually liked about being a part of Sentry.

“I thought you could find anyone with your cards?” Derek said. There was no missing the condescending sneer in his voice.

Stiles slowly turned to face him, and Derek took an involuntary step back. “Don’t test me, Hale,” Stiles said, trying to keep his voice even. “I’m tired, and I’m not in a good mood, and with all of my cards laid out on the table like this,” Derek’s eyebrows rose higher as Stiles’ voice got louder, “I can literally cut your head off with a single thought!” Stiles was working his jaw as if he was grinding his teeth, and his chest was heaving as his breath came and went in angry huffs.

Derek raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, you need to calm down. I was just giving you a hard time. Why are you getting so worked up?”

“Worked up?!” Stiles yelled, his eyes wide and crazy. “Worked up?! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been trying to find them? Do you have any idea how hard this is?!”

“You found _me_ ,” Derek replied, defensively. “What’s the big deal?”

“What’s going on in here?!” Control yelled, practically running into the room. “Stiles, I can feel you all the way on the other side of the compound. You feel like lunatic!”

Stiles jumped like he’d touched a live wire. He turned to his dad, looking sheepish, then swallowed, and looked at the ground. “I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

John glanced at Derek and then looked at the cards on the table. “What are you doing in here?” he asked, sounding both concerned and exasperated. 

Stiles moved back to the table and looked down at his work. “I’m still trying to find what’s left of The Guard.” He squinted and rubbed at his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. “I can’t get a clear answer. I think Kate keeps moving them around. So then, I tried to see if I could figure out where they would end up, but you know what looking into the future is like. The future isn’t set in stone; it changes constantly. I keep thinking the cards will eventually show me something we can use, but so far I haven’t been able to figure anything out.”

“Stiles,” John said, coming up behind him and placing his hands on his shoulders. “You’re exhausted. Even if you found them, you’d be useless in the field. Go get some rest. You can try again tomorrow.”

Stiles felt the suggestion behind his father’s words but didn’t bother trying to fight it. Control was right; he needed to sleep. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he nodded and began scooping up his cards. When he had them in a neat pile in his hands, he looked up at Derek. “Sorry about threatening to kill you,” he said softly, before walking out of the room.

John stifled a laugh and then turned to Derek once Stiles was out of hearing range. “He threatened to kill you?”

Derek shrugged. “Not really. He just told me that he could if he wanted to.”

John laughed quietly at that. ”He could, I guess. If he wanted to. He wouldn’t though. At least I don’t think he would.”

“Well, that certainly puts my mind at ease,” Derek replied, sarcastically.

John laughed again, and gently patted Derek’s upper arm. “I think you’re gonna be okay here. Listen,” John said, crossing his arms, his tone becoming serious. “I know you don’t trust all of this yet, but we really are trying to help people. We still don’t know for sure what happened, but we do know that there are at least two people dead. If The Guard really has gone rogue, then we’re all in danger.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “I know you don’t owe me anything, but I need to ask you a favor.”

Derek narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“I need you to help Stiles find The Guard.”

Derek considered this for moment before giving John a confused look. “Even if I wanted to help him, how could I? There’s nothing magic about me. And, I don’t know the first thing about using tarot cards.”

“No, see, that’s why you’re perfect, actually,” John said, smiling at him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Derek looked at the hand questioningly.

“Even though Stiles has been using the cards for years, in a lot of ways, he’s still actually kind of new to it,” John continued. “He forgets sometimes that it’s really more of an art than a science. His mom used to say that it was more about intuition than calculation. It’s about impressions and feelings, not cold hard facts. See, right now, Stiles is overthinking it. He thinks if he can just analyze the cards like a math problem, he can figure out what he needs to know, when what he really needs to do is just let go, and let the answers come to him.”

“Why can’t _you_ just tell him that?” Derek asked.

“You don’t know my son like I do,” John replied, smiling sadly. “Telling him would only make him overthink it even more.”

“I still don’t understand what you want me to do,” Derek said.

“We’ve all worked together long enough that we have a basic understanding of what Stiles does,” John explained. “You can ask him questions about how the cards work and he wouldn’t think it was weird. None of us can do that. Maybe, while he’s talking to you about the cards, he’ll remember on his own how the whole thing’s supposed to work.”

Derek grimaced. He didn’t relish the idea of spending one on one time with Stiles, let alone in the presence of magic while it was actively being used. But, with the remaining members of The Guard doing whatever they pleased without any accountability, even he could understand how dangerous the situation was.

“Fine,” Derek said, reluctantly. “I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

“Good man,” John said, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze.

Derek could tell it was also meant as a dismissal, so he walked out of the room. As he got further away from Control, his desires to be useful, friendly, and cooperative started to fade, and he remembered how annoyed he had been when he was arguing with Stiles. Why had he agreed to help? He shook his head, confused. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but if he was being honest, it wasn’t actually that big of a deal. Maybe once he talked to Stiles, they’d get some answers, and then they could actually do something about this cluster fuck in the making.

~

When Derek went to Stiles’ room the next morning, he found Stiles sitting at his desk with his door open. He was again staring at a large layout of cards, albeit much smaller than the one he had set up in the briefing room the day before. Stiles looked up when Derek knocked on the doorframe. 

“Oh,” Stiles said, an embarrassed tone to his voice. He looked back down at the cards and scrubbed the back of his head. “Hi.”

Derek smirked. “Hi.” 

“Look,” Stiles said, glancing up at him again. “Sorry again about yesterday. I was really tired and cranky and I know that’s not an excuse, but…” he trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

“So,” Derek started, awkwardly, “Is the offer to show me how the cards work still on the table?”

Stiles stared at him for a moment, like he didn’t understand the question. “What?”

“The cards,” Derek said. “You said you would show me how they work?”

After blinking a few times, Stiles glanced down at the cards and then back up at Derek. “Uh, sure, I guess. You wanna pull up a chair?”

“Okay,” Derek replied, stepping into Stiles’ room. He grabbed a chair and sat down next to Stiles.

“Um,” Stiles said, scrunching up his face and scanning the cards. “So, the main thing with tarot is that the cards tell a story,” he began, touching and straightening various cards as he went. “Only, there’s no words, other than the name of the card, so you, as the reader, have to interpret the meaning of the images on the cards. There’s lots of different decks out there, but each card has a basic meaning that should be the same, no matter which specific deck you’re using.”

Derek’s nostrils flared, still a bit uncomfortable with the scent of magic. “What kind of deck is this one?” Derek asked, tilting his head to look down at the cards on the surface of the desk.

“This deck,” Stiles answered, with a note of pride in his voice, “is one of a kind.” He held out the Four of Wands for Derek to hold. Derek took the card reluctantly, and saw that it had an image of four unicorns on it.

“It belonged to my mom,” Stiles continued as Derek looked at the card. “Before that, it belonged to her mother, and her mother’s mother. Nobody knows where it came from.”

Derek turned it over to look at the back. “It doesn’t look that old,” he commented.

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “Kind of neat, huh?”

Derek had to suppress a sneer at the word “neat.”

Pressing on, Stiles said, “I stop bullets with these cards; they never get hurt. I mean, they just feel like normal cards, but obviously, they’re not.”

Derek smirked and placed the card back on the desk. “Yeah, I’m guessing you can’t make dragons come out of normal tarot cards.”

Stiles shrugged. “I’ve tried to do my thing with other tarot decks, but it just doesn’t work the same. This deck is special.”

“So, can anyone use it?” Derek asked, forgetting himself and touching one of the cards before pulling his hand back. “I mean, if you taught someone, could they do what you do?”

Stiles shook his head. “I don’t think so. At least, we’ve never found anyone else who could do it, not that we were looking that hard.” He gathered the cards together and began to shuffle them. “My dad’s never been able to do anything with them, and Lydia and I work with the cards together a lot, but she can’t really use them either. I think they’re tied to me specifically for some reason.”

Derek frowned and nodded. “So, how does it work?”

Stiles smiled, and cut the deck in half. “When I’m using the deck for this kind of thing, it’s like anyone else would do when they’re working with tarot cards. You ask a question, and then you lay the cards out facedown in a predetermined pattern. Then you turn them over one at a time and read the cards as you go.”

“That’s what you did at The Guard headquarters,” Derek said. 

“Yeah, right, exactly,” Stiles said, laying out a star pattern, like he did before. “This is the layout I used there. It’s one of the patterns I found in my mom’s notes. My dad said it was the one she liked using the most. It’s not a standard pattern you’d see anywhere else.”

Derek nodded as Stiles turned over the top card. It was the Four of Cups.

“The neat thing about the star,” Stiles continued, “is that all of the areas are interconnected. The meaning of a card in one area can change the meaning of a card somewhere else.”

“Why can’t you just use the cards to make a portal to wherever the members of The Guard are, like what you did to get to their headquarters?” Derek asked. “I mean, you didn’t even have their address.”

“The cards don’t work that way,” Stiles said. “You have to be going to a specific location, address or not. If I tell the cards to take me to where you sleep, the portal won’t open. If I tell them to take me to your bedroom, then the portal would open up leading to your bedroom. Your permanent, one. Like, asking to go to your bedroom if you were temporarily staying in a hotel wouldn’t work. If I tried that, say with Kate? It would open up to her bedroom at the Guard headquarters, and that wouldn’t help us very much. You have to ask for a place, not a person.”

“Huh,” Derek said. “That’s weird.”

“I know,” Stiles said, nodding in agreement. “It took us a while to figure stuff like that out, especially since my mom…” Stiles trailed off, and focused on the cards on the desk. “Anyway…,” Stiles trailed off as he flipped over the next card, revealing the Death card.

“Whoa!” Derek exclaimed. “Death? That’s ominous.”

Stiles laughed, “Yeah, I know, everyone pretty much has the same reaction to that card.” He picked it up and handed it to Derek. “This one isn’t even scary, like some of the other Death cards that I’ve seen. No skeletons or Grim Reapers. No blood. Death doesn’t always mean death. It doesn’t even _usually_ mean death. See here?” Stiles said, pointing at the card. “With the phoenix? There’s an egg there because the phoenix represents rebirth. It’s a cycle, but the cycle can only continue if the phoenix dies. The Death card usually represents change.”

“Most people don’t like change,” Derek commented, handing the card back.

Stiles nodded, and placed the card back into the pattern. “True.”

“It can still mean death sometimes, though, right?” Derek asked.

Stiles chuckled. “It definitely can,” he said, turning over the next card.

“Three of Wands,” Derek read. “What does that one mean?”

“A journey,” Stiles answered. “Travelers. Going to a new place.”

“Hey, what question did you ask for this reading, anyway?” Derek asked.

Stiles shrugged. “I didn’t. I wasn’t really thinking about it. We just started talking about the cards, and I just laid them out to show you how it works.”

Derek flipped over the next card. “Seven of Swords. What does this one mean?”

“Deception,” Stiles said. “Theft.” Curious, he held his hand over the card and closed his eyes. “A person,” he said, slowly. “Someone’s been taken. Against their will.” He opened his eyes, and looked up at Derek in surprise. “I think this might be an actual reading!”

Derek shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure, but I think we should keep going,” Stiles said.

Taking a deep breath, Derek nodded and turned over the fifth card.

“Nine of Swords,” Stiles said. “Dread, foreboding. The threat of discovery.” He swallowed and reached for the last card in the center. “Eight of Swords. Entrapment. Danger. Threat from the shadows.”

“That’s a lot of swords,” Derek said.

Stiles nodded. “Swords represent conflict.”

“What does it all mean?” Derek asked.

Stiles’ eyes roamed over the cards, trying to discern meaning from the layout. “The Four of Cups is confusing me,” he said. “It doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the reading. But, with Death in the intellectual aspect, I think it might represent some kind of breakthrough or understanding.” He looked up at Derek. “I think this reading is about me!”

“Well, keep going,” Derek suggested. “What does the rest of it say?”

Stiles glanced down at the cards again, eyes zipping from one sword card to another, before abruptly landing on the Three of Wands. Glancing again at all of the swords, he abruptly stood up, breathing fast with eyes wide. “We have to go.”

“What?” Derek asked, standing up as well.

Stiles scooped the cards together and ran out of his room. “Come on!” he yelled. “We have to go now!”

“What is it?” Derek asked, panic rising in his throat as he tried to control his shift. “What did you see?”

“We’re in danger,” Stiles said as he ran down the hall. “We’ve been compromised. I don’t know how, but The Guard is coming here. They’re going to kill us. We have to warn the others!”


	3. Pentacles

The surge of panic coursing through his chest caused John to bolt upright from his bed. He ran out of the room just as Stiles’ scream pierced the air.

“Stiles!” he yelled, running as fast as his legs would carry him. “Claudia!”

The walls went by in a blur as he made his way to the nursery. He burst through the door to find Claudia sitting on the rug with Scott and Stiles. They were playing with wooden blocks. 

“John?” Claudia said, rising from with floor, confused at the frantic look on her husband’s face. “John, what’s wrong?”

John wrapped his arms around his wife. “I heard Stiles screaming.” He said, letting go of Claudia to kneel down by his year-old son. “I felt it,” he gasped, holding Stiles to his chest. “He was so scared.”

Stiles started squirming, so John put him down.

“You’re scaring me, John,” Claudia said. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. I’ve been here with Stiles and Scott all afternoon. I didn’t hear any screaming. Were you asleep? Maybe you had a bad dream.”

John felt the panic again, only not as strong. He whipped his head around when he heard what sounded like the distant echo of a child’s cry.

“Did you hear that?” he asked.

Claudia raised her hands to his face, trying to get a read on his temperature. “John, I think you should go see Melissa. I think you might be coming down with something.”

The scene broke. Flickered. Just for a second, like a ripple in time. Claudia, Stiles, and Scott were on the floor, and the children were screaming. Claudia’s cards were swirling around them in a protective shield, and a petite woman with long, curly brown hair was pointing a gun at her. He recognized her as Jennifer Blake, a known member of the superhuman terrorist group Alpha Red. Jennifer’s eyes flashed, and the scene disappeared.

“John?” Claudia asked. “Are you with me? You looked like you went somewhere for a second,” she said, laughing nervously.

John took a step back, grimacing. “I just saw Blindside! She changes the way people see things, alters their perceptions. Something’s not right. This isn’t real.” He felt something in his hand. It was one of Claudia’s cards. “Where did this come from?” he asked, raising the card up to look at the image on the front. “The Lovers,” he read out loud.

“Oh, did you find that somewhere?” Claudia asked, reaching out to take the card. “I must have dropped it.”

John pulled away from her and studied the card. “What was it that you told me about this card?” 

“John, give me the card,” Claudia demanded. “I can’t use the deck if it’s missing a card.” 

He squinted at it, trying to remember why it was important. “You told me once that this was one of your favorites.” He closed his eyes, trying to remember. “You said you liked it because even though the couple is kissing, the man’s eyes…are open.”

The instant the words escaped his mouth, the scene broke again, only this time it stayed broken.

“John!” Claudia screamed over Stiles and Scott’s wailing. She had placed herself between the children and Jennifer, the vortex of cards deflecting the shots from Jennifer’s gun.

“Put the gun down!” John yelled, putting the full force of his powers behind the words. 

Jennifer’s resolve seemed to waver, but she raised the gun again and fired. John sent out a wave of calm, trying his best to diffuse the situation, but he had no idea what the woman wanted, and he didn’t know the full extent of what she was capable of.

“Just give me the deck!” Blindside yelled. “Give me the deck, and I’ll let the children live.”

Claudia snatched a card out of the vortex and all of the cards dropped to the floor. The card shimmered and glowed, stretching out and changing shape into a giant broadsword that she held out in defiance before her.

“If you want the deck,” Claudia challenged. “Come and get it!”

“Claudia, no!” John yelled.

Claudia charged and swung with her sword, but suddenly, Blindside was no longer there. Claudia felt cold steel pressed against her temple.

“Stupid gypsies,” the woman sneered, pulling the trigger.

John leapt across the room as the gunshot reverberated through the room. “CLAUDIA!!!” 

He didn’t do it on purpose, and he was never able to do it again, but a single needle point of emotion shot out ahead of him, microseconds ahead of his body, and pierced through Jennifer’s skull. She staggered backwards a single step, a soft grunt slipping past her lips, the kind of sound a person might make when accidentally bumping into a table or chair. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, as she collapsed to the floor.

“Claudia!” John said, cradling her body, almost unable to register the screams of the two infant boys. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry.”

~

The surge of panic coursing through his chest caused Control to bolt upright from his bed. He ran out of the room just as Stiles’ scream pierced the air.

“Stiles!” he yelled, running as fast as his legs would carry him.

His heart raced. He remembered this feeling. Not again, he thought. Please God, not again.

He sent a summons to the others, urging them to report to Stiles’ room immediately, but the only other Sentry members he could feel at headquarters were Derek, Melissa, and Lydia. He scowled, belatedly remembering that the rest had put in a request for some R&R, and would not be back until later that night. How could he have been so stupid as to leave the base so vulnerable?

Rounding the corner, he almost tripped over Derek and Darcy tumbling on the floor. Derek punched the cyborg komodo dragon in the face, but it didn’t seem to faze her. She snapped at Derek, but he held her away with his hands on her chest.

John heard clanging, and whipped his head up to see Stiles, cocooned in a spinning vortex of tarot cards, fending off what looked to be a black whip-like tentacle. The tentacle jabbed, almost like a scorpion’s tail, and it glanced off the card vortex with another clang.

“You can’t hide behind your cards forever,” John heard a sultry female voice say, as a tall blonde woman stepped into view.

“Shade,” John spat out. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, if it isn’t the legendary Control,” Kate said, giving him a suggestive once over. “Someone told me once that twenty years ago, you single-handedly managed to take out the most powerful member of Alpha Red with a single thought. Is that true?” 

John glared at her, trying with all his might to make it happen again. 

“I want the deck, John,” Kate said, a shadow tentacle rising up behind her like a cobra threatening to strike. The tentacle was so dark, it seemed to be absorbing the light from the room.

“Just give us the deck, and we’ll leave,” Gerard said, stepping out from behind Kate.

Darcy flew across the room and slammed into the wall next to Gerard. She was back on her feet almost immediately and hissed at Derek, who came to stand next to Control.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Gerard said. “How would you like it if I treated your pets like that?”

“Keep your monster freak away from us,” Derek said, tensing his muscles for whatever came next.

“Why are you doing this?” asked John. “Razor’s your granddaughter,” he said to Gerard. “Your niece!” he yelled at Kate.

“Oh, we don’t wanna hurt you,” Kate said, matter-of-factly. “We just want to _neuter_ you.”

“What?!” exclaimed Stiles.

“We have no desire to hurt Allison’s little friends,” Gerard explained. “But, we can’t ignore you, either. We have plans, and we can’t have you getting in the way. So Ace, if you’ll kindly hand your tarot deck over to us, we’ll be on our way, and nobody gets hurt.”

“Why do you want his cards?” Derek asked. “They won’t even work for you!”

If it wasn’t for the situation they were in, Stiles would have been proud of the fact that Derek had actually been listening to him.

“He might not look like it,” Gerard said, “but of all the members of Sentry, Stiles poses the biggest threat to us. But, without his cards, he doesn’t have any power, and Sentry won’t be able to stop us. We just want the cards. Don’t make this difficult. Just give us the cards, and we’ll leave.”

Suddenly, a metal rod was flying across the room at Gerard’s head, whistling as it spun through the air. Kate caught it with one of her shadow tentacles and threw it back in the direction it came from. Without missing a beat, Lydia stepped to the side, and using her hand to guide the rod’s path through the air, she spun to change its trajectory, doubled its velocity, and fired it back at Gerard with only slightly less speed than a bullet being fired from a gun. Kate barely had enough time to throw up a shadow barrier to deflect it.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Gerard said. “But, I think I can take it from here.”

Darcy surged forward as Lydia ran back down the hall. John threw out a calming wave, trying to counteract Gerard’s control of the animal, but it only caused Darcy to stumble slightly before resuming her chase.

“Don’t worry about Vector, Dad,” Stiles said. “She can take care of herself.”

Stiles let his own barrier down as the Ace of Swords transformed into his preferred weapon in his hand. “This is for Jackson and Greenburg!” he yelled, swinging his sword at the two Argents. 

“Stiles, no!” John cried out.

With a smirk on her face, Kate gestured with her hand and a shadow blade knocked the broadsword aside. She gestured with her other hand, aiming a spike of midnight black at Stiles’ heart.

Time seemed to slow as John took the first step towards his son, but Derek was faster. He shoved Stiles aside as the spike plunged into his own chest instead. Blood gurgled from Derek’s mouth when his body hit the floor.

“Derek!” Stiles yelled, dropping to the floor to inspect the damage.

Kate pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side as if she were giving sympathy to a whining puppy.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Stiles screamed, eyes red and threatening tears. 

He groped blindly at the cards scattered on the floor, grasping at the first card he came into contact with. It flared to life with a light brighter than any of them had ever seen before. He didn’t need to look at it to know he had grabbed The Sun. Holding it before him like a talisman, it grew brighter and brighter, tearing through Kate’s shadows and forcing everyone in the room to cringe. In a matter of seconds, it began throwing off heat.

“I believe that’s our cue to go,” Gerard said to Kate.

“I’ll be back for those cards,” Kate said, as she and Gerard sank into their own shadows on the floor. “You can’t hide from your own shadow, Stiles.”

When they were gone, Stiles dropped the card and shook his hand like it had burned his fingers.

Melissa ran into the room, and immediately placed her hands on Derek’s chest. Derek grunted in pain and his body seemed to jerk uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry; I know it hurts,” Melissa said, “but we need to stop the bleeding.”

“Everyone okay?” Lydia asked, poking her head in the door.

“Yeah,” John said, fighting his urge to scoop Stiles into his arms. “You?”

Lydia waved the comment aside. “Are you kidding? Darcy didn’t stand a chance.” She nodded at Stiles. “Nice work with the Ace of Pentacles, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Stiles huffed, giving her a tired smile.

“Ace of Pentacles?” John asked. “I thought that was The Sun.”

“It was,” Stiles said, absentmindedly running his fingers through Derek’s hair. “But before that, when they weren’t looking, I turned the Ace of Pentacles into a coin and hid it in some of Darcy’s cybernetics.” He let out a tiny whimper as he watched Melissa tending to Derek’s wounds, but gave his dad a brave smile. “At least now we’ll be able to follow her wherever she goes.”

~

Derek’s eyes fluttered open. He was lying in the infirmary. 

“Hey there, big guy,” Stiles said, standing next to the bed with his hands in his pockets.

“Is he awake?” Melissa asked, walking over to the bed. She peered down at him. “How are you feeling?”

Derek tried to talk, but coughed instead.

“It’s okay,” Melissa said, holding onto his wrist to feel his pulse. “You were hurt pretty bad. Don’t try to talk if it’s too hard for you.”

Derek swallowed and tried again. “Can I have some water?” he croaked out.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Stiles said, trotting over to the sink and filling a small plastic cup. 

“You saved me back there, Derek,” Stiles said as he held the cup so Derek could take a sip. “It was stupid and you almost died…but you saved me.”

“Yes, he did,” John said, stepping into the room. “How are you feeling, Silver?”

A ghost of a smile played across Derek’s lips at his code name. He managed a nod.

“You were lucky,” Melissa said. “If you weren’t a super or if I hadn’t gotten to you in time, that injury probably would have killed you. Normally, I can heal almost anything with a touch, but whatever Kate did to you…,” she trailed off, shaking her head. “I don’t know. It’s like the wound is fighting me, or something. Like it doesn’t want to close. I think you’re in the clear now, but you’re gonna have to stay here for a few days so I can keep an eye on you.”

“Do you want me to try something?” Stiles asked. “With the cards?”

Melissa thought about it for a moment. “Maybe. Let’s give it a couple of days, and if I don’t like what I’m seeing, then maybe we can try something. Chris said Shade’s powers might be magic-based, so magic might be what we need to counteract it. On the other had, more magic could also make it worse. Let’s hold off for now. I’ll let you know.”

Stiles nodded. “Okay.”

“Can Derek and I have the room?” John asked.

“Sure,” Melissa said. “But, not to long. He needs his rest.” 

Stiles squawked out a half-protest, but Melissa ushered him out. John pulled a chair close to Derek’s bed, sat down, and took a deep breath. Derek eyed him warily.

“I don’t know how to thank you for what you did,” John said, his eyes bright. “You saved my son. I will always be grateful to you for that.”

“Just doing my job,” Derek managed to get out in a hoarse whisper.

John smiled and looked down. “Yeah,” he said, looking back at Derek. “I don’t know if you know this, but Stiles is all the family I got left. His mom…” he stopped when his voice cracked. He took a few deep breaths before continuing. “His mom died when he was only a year old. I don’t know what I would have done if I lost Stiles, too.”

He looked at random objects around the room before making eye contact with Derek again. “I know coming here wasn’t your idea. I know you didn’t want to be here. But, I also know that before you got here, you were alone. I want you to know, Derek, that no matter what happens, from now on, you’re family. I will always look out for you. Do you understand?”

Derek nodded.

“Good,” said John, standing and giving Derek’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “Get some rest. This thing with The Guard isn’t over and we’re gonna need you back on your feet sooner rather than later.” Squeezing Derek’s shoulder again, he moved the chair back against the wall, and left the room.

A few minutes later, Stiles poked his head in, but Derek was fast asleep.

~

Derek opened his eyes. He was surprised to find Boyd standing a few feet away.

“You’re going to get better,” Boyd said.

“Um, thanks?” Derek replied. “That’s what Melissa said.”

He winced when he tried to adjust his body, and suddenly Boyd’s hands were at his back, helping him. He hadn’t even seen Boyd move. He blinked and Boyd’s hands disappeared and Boyd was back where he started, standing a few feet away from the bed.

“Melissa’s a healer,” Boyd said. “She doesn’t know what’s coming.”

“I don’t understand,” Derek said to nobody, because Boyd was suddenly gone.

The place where Boyd had been standing flickered, and suddenly Boyd was back, but he was gone again in an instant. Derek shook his head, confused, and then Boyd was sitting in the chair.

“Dude, you are freaking me out,” Derek said. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Out of sync with time,” he said, as if that answered the question. 

Derek blinked and Boyd’s hands were at his back again, as if helping him to sit up. The next instant, he was back standing a few feet from the bed.

“We don’t talk much,” Boyd said. “Since you got here.”

“I guess I’ve been out of it for a few days,” Derek said.

“Since you joined Sentry,” Boyd said. “We don’t talk much.” Boyd flickered. “You’re going to get better.”

“Yeah, you said that already,” Derek replied, reaching for the glass of water on the side table. The next thing he knew, Boyd was holding the glass up to his mouth for him. Derek took a sip, and the glass of water reappeared on the side table, and Boyd was back where he was standing. Derek let his head drop back to the pillow, not sure what to make of Boyd’s visit.

“You’re uncomfortable,” Boyd said. “I’m sorry. I’m leaving.”

“No, don’t go,” Derek said, reaching out his hand.

Boyd flickered and was suddenly standing right next to Derek.

“You need something?” asked Boyd.

“Your codename’s Glitch, right?” Derek asked. “Is it because of all this jumping around you do?”

“I think so,” Boyd answered. “Stiles’ idea. I confuse people.”

“You’re not alone,” Derek replied.

“It’s hard because time is different,” Boyd said. “I don’t talk much. I confuse people.”

“Well, you can talk to me whenever you want,” Derek offered.

Boyd smiled. “You look good together.”

“What?” Derek asked, but Boyd was gone again. He waited for a bit, but Boyd didn’t come back.

He heard footsteps, and wondered if maybe Boyd was using a more conventional method of travel, but instead of Boyd, Stiles walked into the room.

“Oh, you’re up!” Stiles said brightly. “How are you feeling?”

“I just had the weirdest conversation with Boyd,” Derek said.

“You had a conversation with Boyd?” Stiles asked, sounding impressed. “Like an actual full on conversation?”

“I think so,” Derek said. “He seems sad.”

Stiles sighed and dropped into the chair. “Well, that makes sense, I guess. I think he gets lonely sometimes, since he can’t really talk to anyone. I’ve always wondered if he hears us the same way that we hear him.”

“He said he was out of sync with time?” Derek asked.

“As weird as that concept might be, yes,” Stiles answered. “As far as we can tell, Glitch doesn’t move through time the same way that you and I do. He’s always jumping around, a few seconds into the future, a few seconds into the past. It happens a couple times a minute. Sometimes the jump is longer, or lasts longer. It’s hard to say. Sometimes, I think he’s even in multiple times, all at the same time. My guess is it’s probably even more confusing for him than it is for us, except he’s always been this way and he’s probably used to it by now.”

“Can he control it?” asked Derek.

“When he wants to,” Stiles said, picking at a hangnail. “But, he has to concentrate, and it makes him tired.” 

He lowered his hands to his lap, leaned back, and gave Derek a long look. “I know you’re probably tired of hearing it,” he began in a singsong kind of way, “but thank you. Thank you for saving my life. I can’t believe you just jumped in front of Kate’s shadow spear like that. You almost died, Derek. I don’t know what I would have done if that happened…”

“Come on, you don’t even like me,” Derek said, attempting to use humor to lighten the mood.

Stiles laughed. “I didn’t. But, it’s different now.” Stiles gave him an earnest look. “I never hated you, you know.”

Derek looked down. “I know.” He sighed after a moment before continuing. “I don’t know why everyone’s making such a big deal about it. You go on missions all the time. You all must’ve saved each other lots of times.”

“It’s different,” Stiles said, leaning forward. “The rest of them…they’re all kind of indestructible in their own way. I’m the only…squishy…one.”

“Lydia’s not indestructible,” Derek commented.

Stiles laughed out loud. “Listen, dude, the day Lydia gets hurt is the day the world ends. I don’t know what that nonsense was about me being The Guard’s biggest threat. Vector’s the one they should be looking out for.”

“Maybe,” Derek agreed, “but I think they might have a point in the sheer magnitude of your abilities. I mean, _you_ don’t even really know what you’re capable of, right?”

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” Stiles said with a smile. “Hey, listen, I hope I’m not totally off base here, but I just need to ask.”

Derek lifted his eyebrows, but remained silent, and Stiles took that as permission to continue.

“After we take care of all this, when we don’t have to worry about The Guard anymore,” he paused for a second. “Do you maybe wanna go out on a date with me?”

Derek smiled and looked down, a little embarrassed by the question. “Sure,” he said, meeting Stiles’ eyes. “I’d like that.”

Stiles popped up out of his chair with a huge grin on his face. “Great!” he said a little too loudly, immediately turning around to see if Melissa was coming to yell at him. “Um, you need your rest, so I’m, um, gonna get going,” he said, backing slowly out of the door. “Get better.”

“Thanks,” Derek said, laying his head back on the pillow.

Stiles gave him a big smile, and left so Derek could sleep.

~

Scott turned to address the group before they went through the door, eyes bugging out when he saw the squirrel perched on Stiles’ shoulder.

“What the hell is that?” Scott asked in disbelief.

Stiles narrowed his eyes angrily, and answered, “The Happy Squirrel.”

“The Happy Squirrel!?” Lydia shrieked, her tone almost accusatory. “That’s not even a real card!”

“I know!” Stiles yelled back, just as frustrated as they were. “I was watching an episode of The Simpsons about a month ago, and there was a fortune teller who had The Happy Squirrel in her tarot deck. A few days later, the card just appeared somehow in _my_ deck, like out of nowhere! I never thought I would top-deck it during a mission.”

Scott stepped up to him. “Stiles, this is serious. Can’t you just shuffle it back in and draw another one?”

“I know this is serious! You think I don’t know this is serious?!” Stiles looked at the ground and shook his head, resigned. “You know the deck doesn’t work like that,” he said finally, looking back up at Scott with a heavy sigh. “I can’t just pick which card I want to use.”

Scott looked up to the heavens as if he was praying to be struck down by lightning, even though they both knew that if by some miracle that did actually happen, he wouldn’t be hurt by it anyway. With a resigned sigh, he turned around and walked back towards the door.

“Everyone ready?” he asked, purposely locking eyes with Stiles, and then inadvertently with the squirrel. Scott closed his eyes briefly, as if looking at the world was causing him pain.

Derek gave the squirrel the side-eye and realized that the squirrel was watching him curiously. He felt the corners of his mouth quirk up involuntarily into a smile.

When Scott opened his eyes again, Stiles grimaced and nodded his head, signaling for him to go ahead. Scott nodded back, and opened the door. 

~

“This is going to be the single most dangerous mission that Sentry has ever undertaken,” John said, eyeing each of the team members sitting at the table in the briefing room. “Luckily, thanks to Stiles, we know where The Guard is hiding. Scans of the building have provided us with a layout, as well as how many people we can expect. We don’t have confirmation on the identities of those inside, but we have a pretty good idea of what we’re dealing with.”

“Remember, our mission is to capture, not kill,” Melissa added. “But, the members of The Guard are among the deadliest people on the planet. You have been authorized to use lethal force if necessary.”

Allison dipped her head and took a steadying breath. 

Scott reached out and held her hand. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Allison nodded and gave him a brave smile. “I’m fine,” she answered.

“Allison,” John said, “you do not have to be a part of this mission. No one here will think any less of you.”

Steeling her gaze, she answered, “I want to go. I have to. You’re all as much my family as they are. More so, after what they’ve done. I’m going to help you bring them in.”

John regarded her for a moment before continuing. “Okay, this is what we know,” he said, pulling up a map of the building on the screen for them all to see. “We’ve managed to identify four distinct human energy signatures inside, plus a colder signature that we have to assume is Darcy. Now, this is one less energy signature than there are members of The Guard who are at large, however, we _have_ been picking up a strong energy reading in this room near the center of the building that the others tend to keep close to. In the two weeks that we’ve been watching them, this energy signature has not moved. We have reason to believe that this energy signature belongs to Isaac Lahey, codename Seraph, and that he is being held against his will.”

“That would match up with the reading that I did,” Stiles said.

“You did a reading?” asked Lydia. “I thought you couldn’t do a reading with the Ace of Pentacles missing from the deck.”

“It was right before the attack,” Stiles said. “I was showing Derek how the cards worked, and the Seven of Swords came up in the emotional aspect.”

“Good to know,” Lydia said.

“But, we don’t know for sure if he was taken by force,” Melissa said. “We can’t even be sure this is actually him. Just be prepared for the possibility that this could turn into a rescue mission.”

~

The others followed Scott silently as he led them towards the room where they suspected Isaac was being held. They knew there were always at least two people nearby, and sometimes additional people inside the room. 

The squirrel dug its tiny claws into Stiles’ shoulder and seemed to be quivering in anticipation, as if it was gearing up for a fight. Stiles reached up and stroked its fur, and the squirrel rubbed into his palm like a cat. Leaping off his shoulder, it ran up to the front of the group, right next to Scott.

Scott peeked around the corner and saw Matt sitting on a couch, doing something on his laptop. Feeling something on his shoe, he glanced down and noticed the squirrel was peeking around the corner as well, and he unsuccessfully tried to suppress a smile. Looking up again, he saw Adrian Harris was leaning against the wall looking bored. 

~

“Adrian Harris, codename Zephyr,” John said, pulling up his picture. Zephyr had a narrow face, angled features, and a pointed chin. His reddish-brown hair was cut short, with wire glasses framing his gray-blue eyes. “Shape shifter, elemental type, sub-type: air. Can instantly shift between solid and gaseous states. It’s basically impossible for anyone to hurt him, or even touch him, unless he wants them to.”

“Except for me.”

Everyone turned to Erica, and she practically shrank from the attention. She rarely spoke during meetings, even though she had been a member of Sentry for almost ten years.

“Right,” John said, nodding. “Which means that if he’s there, you’re the one who’s gonna have to deal with him.”

Eyes wide and lips pressed tightly together, Erica nodded. She was quiet and shy, but her record in the field was flawless.

John pulled up the next picture, a man in his late twenties with a round face, curly brown hair, and menacing blue eyes. “Matthew Daehler. Non-powered, but ex-military. He’s an expert marksman, and highly trained in close quarters combat.” He turned to Allison. “If Daehler is there, that’s who you’ll be going after.”

~

Scott locked eyes with Allison and Erica, and gestured for them to move forward. Erica shifted as much of her mass as possible to Pan-Dran, rendering herself almost invisible, then phased through the wall. Allison drew an arrow and notched it in her bow. She took careful aim, then stepped out into the room.

“What the hell?” Adrian said, his form going blurry.

Matt turned to see what he was talking about and saw Allison aiming the arrow at him.

“Razor,” he said, lifting his hand. “You wanna watch where you’re pointing that thing?”

“Hello, Matt,” Allison replied, smiling sweetly at him. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re going along with whatever scheme my grandfather cooked up.”

“Well, we don’t call him Mastermind for nothing,” Matt said, leaning back with his hands behind his head and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. “I like to be on the winning side.”

“Get your hands back up where I can see them,” Allison ordered angrily.

“You should have a little more respect for the people whose house you come barging into,” Adrian said, his form becoming more indistinct. “Maybe you need a lesson in manners.”

Allison was watching him turn invisible when Erica dropped from the ceiling, spread-eagle as if she was doing a belly flop into a swimming pool, right onto the spot where Adrian was standing.

Matt sat up now, alarmed at what was happening. “What did you do to him?” he demanded.

“Relocated him to Pan-Dran,” Erica said, rearranging herself so that she was sitting cross-legged on the floor. “He’s not very happy about it.”

Without warning, Matt whipped out a gun and trained it on Allison, but she was waiting for it. She released the arrow, knocking the gun out of his hands. Matt leapt from the couch and Allison swung her bow like a baseball bat. Matt blocked with his arm, but the blow still staggered him. Kicking him in the chest, she sent him crashing to the ground.

“Go!” she yelled to the others. “I’ve got Matt!”

~

John pulled up a picture of Kate. “You all know Shade,” he said. “And we’ve discussed her abilities at length. She is far and away the most dangerous one in the group.”

“Let me take her, then,” Scott said. “I can’t get hurt.”

“As far as we know, that’s true,” Melissa said, eyeing her son. “But, Shade is different. We don’t know whether or not her shadows can get past whatever it is that keeps you safe.”

“Then, let me do it,” suggested Lydia. “I’ll just make sure the shadows don’t touch me.”

“No,” John said. “We can’t be sure if your abilities will work on her either. Were you able to detect her shadows when they attacked our base?”

“I don’t know,” Lydia admitted. “It all happened so fast. I didn’t notice if I sensed them or not.”

“Well, we already know what she did to Derek the last time they fought, so that just leaves me and Boyd,” Stiles said.

John nodded. “Right. There’s no perfect option here, but we think that if the two of you work together, you’ll be a match for her shadows. Derek and Lydia, the two of you will go after Darcy and Gerard.”

~

“What is this place?” Adrian asked, looking up at the hazy reddish sky. A six-winged yellow and orange dragonfly the size of a large dog buzzed past his head.

“Welcome to Pan-Dran,” Erica dead-panned. “Welcome to my reality.”

“Bring me back!” Adrian yelled, his form disintegrating as he flew at Erica like a gale force wind.

Erica giggled maliciously as he passed harmlessly through her.

Scott and the others ran past where she was sitting on the floor.

“You’re going to have to face the Argents without me,” she said as they went by. “I have to keep my focus in Pan-Dran so Zephyr doesn’t kill me.”

“Don’t worry, Erica,” Scott said. “Just keep him busy, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

Erica nodded, but her eyes were glazed over.

Matt tried to make a break for the door, but Allison tackled him.

Derek kicked the door open, revealing the two Argents standing over Isaac, who was kneeling on the floor.

~

“Isaac Lahey,” said John as he pulled up the last picture. Another man in his early twenties, this one with curly blonde hair and sharp cheekbones. “Codename: Seraph, pretty much Kate’s opposite in terms of abilities. His body generates light, which he can manipulate into armor and weapons.”

“He can also turn the light into wings,” Melissa added.

“Which means he can fly,” said Stiles with a sarcastic tone, though everyone knew what he was saying was true.

“He’s also bat-shit crazy,” Lydia said, turning to face Derek when he gave her an inquisitive look. “He actually thinks he’s an angel.”

“From heaven?” Derek asked.

“He thinks he’s been banished to Earth to atone for something he did wrong and he’s trying to earn his way back in,” Lydia replied, as if she were reading the weather report. “Total nut job.” 

“Since light is more or less a known quantity,” John began, looking at Scott, “unlike shadows, we thought we would leave Isaac for you. Of course, we’re hoping that you won’t have to actually fight him. If he needs to be rescued, then we’re counting on you to keep him safe while the others subdue the rest of the team.”

~

“I don’t know how you got past Adrian and Matt,” Gerard sputtered, “but you’re damn well sure not leaving again. Darcy! Attack!”

Darcy surged towards them, but Lydia took a couple of running steps forward and kicked Darcy’s head like someone taking a penalty shot in a soccer game. Darcy flew to the side, but was back on her feet in an instant.

Stiles noticed shadows pooling beneath Kate’s feet and immediately tossed his cards into the air. The squirrel jumped from his shoulder just as the cards formed into a swirling defensive vortex, and he quickly lost track of it.

Boyd suddenly appeared in front of Kate and took a swing at her, but she dropped into the shadows at her feet, with only her derisive laughter to mark her passing. Derek rushed at Gerard, but Darcy blocked his path.

“Are you okay, Isaac?” Scott asked, kneeling at Isaac’s side. Scott wasn’t even touching him and he could feel the heat emanating from Isaac’s skin.

“Seraph!” Gerard yelled. “Attack!”

“Yes, sir,” Isaac replied, with no inflection to his voice.

His eyes flared white and huge wings made of golden light burst from his back. He swung at Scott with a huge glowing sword, slamming Scott into the wall, but doing no damage.

Derek kept trying to get past Darcy, to no avail, and Boyd kept trying to get at Kate, but she was too fast for him, even though every time she tried to strike with one of her shadows, Boyd was suddenly not there. Stiles didn’t know what else to do other than run at Kate whenever she appeared, trusting his tarot cards to keep him safe. Luckily, between his and Boyd’s attacks, they were able to keep Kate distracted from Lydia and Derek.

Lydia quickly assessed the situation. They really needed to take Gerard out of the equation, and Derek wasn’t having any luck on that front. The kick that Lydia had delivered to the monster’s head should have crushed her skull, but Darcy’s cybernetic enhancements prevented the kick from doing much damage, despite the fact that Lydia was wearing steel-toed shoes. Normally, Lydia had a lot more to work with, but the room that The Guard had been holding Isaac in was pretty sparse. Still, she noticed a couple of metal folding chairs stacked neatly against the wall.

Just as Derek was about to rush Gerard again, one of those folding chairs flew over him, hitting the fluorescent light fixture overhead. One of the cables attaching it to the ceiling broke, and the fixture came swinging down straight at Gerard, forcing him to dive out of the way. 

The next thing he knew, something else was flying past him, only this time it was small, brown, and furry. The squirrel leapt onto Darcy’s face, causing the lizard to thrash its head back and forth as she tried to dislodge the tiny creature. Needle like claws and teeth made short work of the lizard’s eyes, and Darcy went on a short-lived blind rampage until Lydia brought a metal folding chair crashing down on top of her head.

“ISAAC!” Gerard roared.

Isaac rushed at Derek with his sword held high, fully clothed now in his armor of light. Scott jumped in front of him with his daggers crossed, catching the sword’s downward thrust. Still holding the folding chair, Lydia spun around, slamming it into Isaac’s back. His armor prevented the chair from doing any real damage, but the blow caused him to lose his balance and fall down. Derek jumped at Gerard, knocking him out with a single punch, and Isaac’s lights fizzled out.

Before anyone could react, Kate appeared between Gerard and Darcy. Placing a hand on each of them, all three sunk into the ground, leaving no trace. The squirrel crept out from behind Derek, and sniffed at the spot where they disappeared. It looked up at Stiles, seemingly disappointed, and with a poof, turned back into the Happy Squirrel card and fluttered to the ground.

They all stood around, breathing heavily, waiting for something else to happen, but all they heard was silence. 

“Everyone okay in here?” asked Allison, jogging into the room.

“We’re okay,” Scott assured her. “You took care of Matt?”

“Yeah, I handcuffed him to some pipes,” she said, pointing behind her with her thumb. “Where’s Kate and Gerard?”

“They got away,” Stiles said, as if he was taking the blame for it.

Derek knelt down, picked up the Happy Squirrel card, and handed it back to Stiles. “Don’t worry,” he said, placing a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, “they took Darcy with them. We’ll find them again.”

Stiles nodded glumly. “We were so close,” he said, tossing the tarot cards into the air. “At least we got the other three.” 

They all watched as the cards began flying in a large oval, forming the portal that would take them home.


	4. Cups

Matt tugged experimentally at his handcuffs, while Sage and Control watched from across the table in the interrogation room.

“Just tell us what you know,” suggested Control. “There’s no reason to go making this harder on yourself.”

“What, that’s a joke, right?” Matt scoffed. “No matter what I tell you, we both know I’m never seeing the outside of a prison for the rest of my life.”

Melissa leaned forward, clasping her hands in front of her. “Matthew, honey, I need to you listen to me. There is a huge difference between going to prison, and disappearing into a pit, where you will never see another human being, again. Ever.”

“Why don’t you just ask Stiles?” Matt spat out. “Isn’t that how you found us in the first place? Him and his fucking cards. You all make me sick! If it was up to me, I’d have you all killed.”

“Funny you should say that, seeing as how you were working with one of the most powerful super human groups in the world,” Control commented, leaning back in his chair. “What, you thought they learned how to do all that stuff by reading the backs of cereal boxes?”

“I want a lawyer,” Matt said.

John laughed. “Where do you think you are, son? You think you have rights, here? The Guard doesn’t exist. Sentry doesn’t exist. Heck, I don’t even exist. How about you, Melissa?”

“Nope,” she answered, shaking her head.

“What about you, Matt?” asked John, his voice turning sinister. “Do you exist? Who’s gonna come looking for you?”

“You will pay for this. One day. I promise you,” Matt said, looking him straight in the eye.

“You’ve been hanging around Gerard too much,” Control said, rising from his seat. “I’m gonna get some coffee. You want some?” he asked Melissa.

Melissa got up as well. “I would love some, but I think I’ll join you. I’ve been stuck inside of this room for too long. Maybe we should send the kids in here? They might have better luck.”

Stiles opened the door before John could.

“Did you call me? I thought I heard you say my name,” he said, acting as if he had been caught eavesdropping. He cleared his throat. “Did you need us for something?”

Lydia was standing behind him, smiling sweetly. “I brought my rubber ball,” she added helpfully, holding it up for them to see.

John sighed and brushed past them without answering, but Melissa smiled.

“Go easy on him,” she whispered, loud enough for Matt to hear, before following John down the corridor.

“Okay!” Stiles yelled after his dad, pointing into the room. “We’ll just be in here, you know, if you need us! Don’t worry about a thing! It won’t be like last time; I promise! We know what to do! We’ll just…hey!” he yelped, as Lydia shoved him into the room.

“Get out your cards,” she said, getting down to business. “I don’t have all day.”

~

Erica and Boyd stood over Isaac in the infirmary. He’d been asleep ever since they’d rescued him from The Guard over three days ago.

“We were recruited together,” Erica said. “We went through training together.”

Boyd’s form flickered, but he didn’t disappear. “If we were on the same team. It would be different.”

“I know,” Erica said. “But, we should have kept an eye on him.” She crossed the short distance to the bed and gently touched his face. “He’ll be okay, right?”

Boyd disappeared for a second. “Yes.”

Erica pushed Isaac’s bangs off of his forehead. “What do you think happened to him?”

“His mind is weak,” Boyd said. “Gerard used him.”

“Used him to what?” Erica asked.

“Practice,” Boyd said. “He’s waking up.”

Erica gasped as Isaac slowly opened his eyes.

“Where am I?” he asked, blinking in confusion.

“You’re at Sentry headquarters,” Erica said, grabbing his hand. “We rescued you from Mastermind and Shade.”

“Rescued?” Isaac asked, his voice low.

Erica turned to Boyd, worried that Isaac wasn’t understanding them.

“Gerard was controlling you,” she said to Isaac. “Do you remember anything?”

Isaac looked at them, clearly still tired. 

“He needs rest,” Boyd said, his form flickering as if he were about to disappear.

Erica nodded. “We won’t go far, okay? If you need anything, just push this button, and someone will come,” she said, pressing what looked like a remote control with a single red button on it into his hand.

Isaac blinked at her. “He was in my head,” Isaac said. A single tear traced its way down his cheek. “He made me do things. Jackson…”

“Did you kill Jackson?” Erica asked in surprise.

“I didn’t want to. Gerard made me do it,” Isaac said, crying now. He shook his head, as if he could dislodge the memory and make it go away somehow. “I couldn’t control myself. I’m weak!” he said angrily, hitting the bed with his fist. “How could I let this happen?” 

“Shh,” Erica said, taking his hand. “You’re with us now. Gerard can’t hurt you anymore.”

“Tell us what you remember,” Boyd said. “Why they did this.”

“I got flashes,” Isaac said, “when he was controlling me. Sometimes I could feel things. Things that he wanted. Gerard only cares about power. He wants to control everybody. Everything. He was just using me to make himself stronger.”

“We have to tell Control,” Erica said.

Boyd nodded.

“We’ll be back, Isaac. Remember what I said about the button,” she said pointing at it. “Just push it if you need anything. Come on, Boyd.”

Isaac watched them go, then turned his head to the side, looking at nothing in particular. Truth be told, it was the embarrassment that was eating at him. It would take lifetimes to make up for this latest disgrace, on top of all the work he already had to do. But, he could be patient, and he would do what he had to do. He would make it back home someday. If it was the last thing he did, he would make it back home.

~

Derek turned at the knock on his door. “Come in!” he called out as he got up from his bed. 

Stiles pushed it open just as Derek was pulling a shirt on, giving Stiles a tantalizing glimpse of muscled torso.

“Oh, hi Stiles,” Derek said. “Did you need something?”

Stiles blinked a few times and swallowed. This was definitely not the moment to be thinking of sexy times with Derek.

“Um, Derek,” he began, wringing his hands. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Derek, I think you should sit down.”

Derek squinted his eyes, his nose twitching at the nervous scents coming off of Stiles. He smelled like a cornered animal.

“What’s wrong, Stiles?” Derek asked. “You’re scaring me.”

Stiles looked at him with wide eyes, then grabbed a chair and sat down. He gestured for Derek to do the same. Derek pulled his chair in front of Stiles and sat down, as well.

“Okay, I’m sitting,” Derek said. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

“You know Lydia and I have been interrogating Matt, right?” Stiles said.

“Yeah,” Derek replied.

“We learned something.” Stiles was looking anywhere but Derek’s face. “Something about you.”

“Me?” Derek said, sitting up in surprise.

Stiles squeezed his hands together. After he and Lydia talked to Control and Sage, they had all agreed that it would be best if he spoke with Derek alone. 

“Derek…” Stiles trailed off and took a deep breath.

“Okay seriously Stiles, just tell me,” Derek said, laughing nervously. “You’re starting to freak me out.”

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, then looked Derek straight in the eye. “We’re pretty sure The Guard was ordered to kill your parents.”

Derek stood up. “What?!”

“Lydia and I, we got Matt to talk,” Stiles said, his leg bouncing nervously. “He gave up the passwords to The Guard’s computers and databases a few hours ago. There was so much stuff in there, Derek. The Guard, they…they’ve done horrible things. All in the name of national security. We found a file of people that Kate had been assigned to eliminate. Your parents were in there.”

Derek’s eyes were blindly searching, and Stiles knew Derek wasn’t actually seeing anything in front of him. Stiles stood up slowly.

“We’re gonna catch her, Derek,” Stiles said. “We’ll make her pay for this.”

Suddenly, Derek’s eyes were focused on him again.

“Why?” he demanded. “Why was she sent to kill us?”

“Your parents used to work for the government, like us,” Stiles said. “They were spies, or something, in Europe. From what we could piece together, they were asked to join The Guard, but they refused.” Stiles paused for a moment, trying to gauge how Derek was doing with all of this new information. “They were a liability, so Kate was sent after them, but they ran and went into hiding.” Stiles stepped closer to Derek. “You and your sisters weren’t in the file.”

“I need to get out of here,” Derek said, rushing past him.

“Derek!” Stiles said, turning to following him. “Where are you going?”

Between one step and another, Derek transformed into an actual wolf, stopping Stiles in his tracks. He watched, stunned as Derek, in the form of a huge black animal, ran and disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not sure if Derek would be able to hear him or not, or whether Derek would have even cared. “I’m sorry.”

He sat in Derek’s room, unsure of what to do, knowing that the others were waiting to find out how Derek took the news. Derek was going to come back; he was sure of it. They were supposed to go on a date. Someday.

As he should have expected, Scott showed up an hour later.

“Hey,” Scott said, noticing the glum look on Stiles’ face.

“Hey,” Stiles replied, not looking up at him.

“I’d ask how the talk went, but I can probably guess,” Scott said, sitting in the other chair.

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “It’s not everyday that you find out the identity of the person who killed your parents.” 

“Or the fact that she also killed your siblings for no reason at all,” Scott added, unhelpfully.

“Kate is a total psychopath!” Stiles said. “We have to find her Scott! Did you look at the file? Did you see how many people she killed?!”

“We’ll find her,” Scott said. 

“And, then what?” Stiles asked, angrily. “She can walk through shadows, Scott! How are we supposed to catch her, let alone lock her away?”

They both stood up when they heard footsteps at the door. Derek gave them a blank stare. 

After a few awkward seconds of silence, Stiles decided to break it. “Cool trick, by the way. Turning into a wolf like that. I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Whoa!” Scott said, sounding impressed. “You can turn into a wolf?”

“I didn’t know I could do it, either,” Derek said, his voice flat. “My mom could do it. She tried to teach me, but I could never figure it out.”

It was quiet again, but Derek didn’t seem to mind the presence of his teammates. “You’re gonna figure this out, right?” Derek said, looking directly at Stiles.

“Huh?” Stiles asked.

“How to catch Kate,” Derek said, taking a step closer to him. “She has to pay for this. We can’t just let her get away with it.”

Stiles blinked a few times, not sure of what to say. “I don’t know how, Derek…”

“You have to figure it out, Stiles,” Derek said, cutting him off and taking another step closer. They were less than a foot away from each other now, and Derek’s eyes were boring into him as if force of will alone could give truth to what he was saying. “You’re the only one who can.”

~

“Why don’t you just use The Sun, again?” asked Erica, holding up the card. “Didn’t you say it basically obliterated Kate’s shadows?”

“It did,” Stiles replied, sounding irritated, “but she just ran away, remember?”

Erica sighed and tossed the card back onto the conference table. She, Stiles, and Lydia had been looking at the cards for hours, trying to come up with some way to counteract Kate’s abilities.

“The light from The Sun that destroys Kate’s shadows is also really good at making them,” Lydia said, looking through a handful of cards. “Shadows which Kate can then use to escape through. What about this one?” she asked, holding the Eight of Swords.

“That’s one of the cards that came up in the reading before the attack,” Stiles said. “But, what do you expect me to do with it?”

“Look,” Lydia said, tapping the card with a perfectly manicured fingernail. “The swan is all tangled up in the vines. Maybe we can use this to trap her.”

“She walks through shadows, remember?” Stiles said.

“It would be a magical trap,” Lydia said, as if she were talking to someone who had never used the cards before. “Maybe she wouldn’t be able to escape from it.”

“Ooo! What about this one?” Erica said, holding up Justice.

“Justice?” asked Stiles.

“Yeah!” Erica replied. “What if, like, this avatar of Justice appears and smites Shade for all of the evil things she’s done?”

“They’re not Pokémon cards, Erica,” Stiles said.

“They’re sometimes Pokémon cards,” Lydia argued, raising an eyebrow dismissively. 

“It doesn’t matter, anyway!” Stiles said, standing up in frustration. He started to pace. “You know the cards don’t work that way. I don’t get to pick which cards I use; I just have to draw whatever card’s on top.”

“But, if the deck knows what you want, isn’t there a better chance it’ll give it to you?” asked Lydia. 

“Huh?” Stiles said, pausing to look at her. “I never said that. Did you find that in my mom’s notes somewhere? Where are you getting that from?”

“You draw the Ace of Swords all the time,” Lydia said. “Everyone knows it’s your favorite card. Most of the time, a giant sword is not the best option for a given situation, but I’ve read through all of your mission debriefings, and you somehow manage to pull the Ace of Swords just slightly less than fifty percent of the time. Either you’re wrong about your ability to choose the card that you draw, or the deck actually does want to give you the cards that you want.”

“Maybe?” Stiles said, shrugging his shoulders. “So what? We don’t have time to test that theory to see if it works. Kate is out there right now, probably planning to kill us! I can’t even do a reading because the Ace of Pentacles is still on Darcy!”

“So, you can’t do a reading,” began Erica, counting off on her fingers, “You can’t pick what card you want. What _can_ you do?”

“Who made up all these rules, anyway?” Lydia asked, sounding angry now. “If what you’re saying is true, then why practice with the cards at all? Why study them? If you really have no say in how you use them, then all you ever have to do is pick them up when you’re about to get in a fight. Then, you draw the top card, toss it into the air, and what happens happens.” She placed her hands on her hips, a sure sign she was just getting started. “These cards are connected to you. I’ve worked on them for years with you, and I see the way you light up when you figure out something new to do with them. What would be the point of all that if you had no choice in how to use them? Maybe the limitations with the cards are self-imposed. Maybe there’s some things you can’t do with the cards because you’ve always been told that you can’t do them. These cards are powerful! They are some of the most powerful artifacts that Sentry has ever come across. Ever! And Sentry has been around for a long time.”

“Say you’re right,” Stiles said, sensing she was done with her rant. “What do I do? I’ve never done anything like that, before. I don’t know; it just doesn’t feel right. Doesn’t that go against the whole nature of tarot?”

“So, maybe it’s something you don’t do all the time,” Erica offered. “Maybe you only do it when you really have to.”

“So, what you’re saying is that tarot is passive, right?” Lydia said. “You take the cards that the deck gives you, like the deck is talking to you. But, I think you talk to the deck, too. I think you’re the one who’s telling the deck that you want the Ace of Swords all the time. If you think about it, tarot is more like a conversation, you know? It’s like before you do a reading, you’re supposed to start with a question. You’re telling the deck what you want, in a sense. What if you took a more active role? What if you just shift the balance a little and tell the deck exactly what you want? What if instead of using the deck to react to things that are happening, you use the deck to cause something to happen?”

“You mean like casting a spell?” asked Erica.

Stiles walked over to the table and looked down at the cards scattered haphazardly across its surface. At the center was The Empress, guiding the kaleidoscope of butterflies on her card into a ring that was framing the sun. With a circular motion of his hand, Stiles pushed the cards around the table until they formed a ring around a circle of bare tabletop. His eyes grew wide, and Lydia recognized the look he always got when finding out something new about his cards.

He turned to Lydia, with a huge smile on his face. “Lydia, you’re a genius! I know what we have to do!”

~

The tarot cards fluttered into Stiles’ waiting hand after the last member of their team stepped through the portal.

“You got this, Stiles,” Scott whispered, squeezing his shoulders. 

Stiles thought it was a pretty extreme mission for his first stint at team leader, but given the circumstances, they didn’t have much choice. Scott was leading his group of Lydia, Erica, and Boyd to take on Gerard and Darcy. This left Stiles, as the senior-most member of those who were left, to lead the group that would be taking on Kate. He, Derek, and Allison watched as Scott’s team made their way up the stairs of the abandoned house that Kate and Gerard were hiding in. It was 2 a.m., and they were expecting the Argents to be asleep. Thermo scans of the house confirmed that the three heat signatures they assumed to be their targets had not moved in several hours. Kate was in one of the downstairs bedrooms.

Looking at Derek and Allison, Stiles swallowed and nodded his head in the direction they had to go. He readied his cards in his hands and Allison notched an arrow into her bow. They approached Kate’s room, Derek listening for any indication that they had been detected. He positioned himself in front of Kate’s door. The plan was for the two teams to enter their respective rooms at the same time in order to preserve the element of surprise.

“Remember, don’t come in until I tell you to,” Stiles said. “I don’t want you inside of the room when I do the casting. I don’t know what might happen to you.”

Derek and Allison nodded.

“On the count of three,” came Scott’s voice over their earpieces. “One, two, three!”

Derek kicked Kate’s door in, and quickly jumped out of the way. Stiles rushed past him into the dark room, ignoring the swirling shadows that Kate had raised in self-defense. The cards exploded from his hand, settling in a ring on the floor along the wall, and the shadows abruptly returned to their rightful places.

“Who’s there?” Kate asked angrily.

Stiles flicked the lights on, revealing Kate sitting up in her bed, the covers still over her legs.

“I’m gonna kill you!” she yelled, gesturing at Stiles, her face betraying her shock when nothing happened. 

“Your powers won’t work in here,” Stiles said, smugly. “I used the cards to create a magic void. Nothing magic will work in here.”

Kate got out of bed, a predatory look in her eyes. “If I can’t use my powers in here, that means you can’t either. I can still kill you.”

“Uh, uh, uh!” Stiles said, holding up the Ace of Spades from a regular deck of cards. “I might not be able to do magic, but I can still embed a card into a two by four at fifty paces.”

Undaunted, Kate rushed him, and Stiles flicked the card at her. She shrieked, stopping dead in her tracks with her hand on her cheek. She pulled her hand away, revealing a shallow cut on her face and blood on her fingers.

“Enough fun and games,” Stiles said. “Razor, Silver, you wanna come in now?”

Derek stepped into the room, but his wolf features disappeared the instant he crossed the line of tarot cards. He paused in surprise, but kept walking until he was standing next to Stiles. Allison entered after him, her bow drawn with the arrow pointed at Kate.

“So, that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” Kate said, giving Allison a disappointed look. “Taking their side over family?”

“I don’t know who you are, anymore,” Allison said, fighting to keep the tremor from her voice. “We’re taking you in, and you’re gonna pay for what you’ve done.”

“I only did what I was told to do!” Kate spat out. “I did my job!”

“Was killing my sisters part of your job?” Derek asked, taking a step closer to her. 

“Derek Hale,” Kate said, eyeing him up and down. “You certainly filled out in all the right places.” Her flirty tone instantly turned sinister. “I was just taking care of a problem before it became a problem.”

Derek lunged, but Stiles grabbed the back of his jacket. “Don’t, Derek,” he said. “She won’t remember it anyway.”

Kate’s eyes widened in shock and she took a step back. “What are you talking about? Why won’t I remember?”

Stiles walked to the edge of the room, to where he knew the Five of Cups was going to be. 

Sensing he was about to do something, Kate began yelling, “You think getting rid of me will solve your problems? You’ll never be safe! There will always be somebody coming after you!”

Ignoring her, Stiles picked up the card. In doing so, he broke the magic void, but he tossed the card at Kate before she could take advantage of her restored powers. The room instantly filled with a pale glowing mist, and the soft and gentle sound of tiny waves, rhythmically washing over a nearby sandy shore.

~

Stiles breathed out a happy sigh as he gazed down the dark street. The moon was almost full, giving everything a silvery glow, and the cherry trees were in full and gloriously pink springtime bloom.

“You’re in a good mood,” Derek said, smiling as he threaded his and Stiles’ fingers together.

“Well, yeah!” Stiles said, tugging Derek closer to him. “Dinner was nice, the movie was fun, and it’s a beautiful night. And, I’m walking down the street with my boyfriend. What’s not to like?”

“Boyfriend?” asked Derek in mock surprise. “Who said anything about ‘boyfriend’?”

Stiles laughed. “My magic boyfriend.”

Derek closed his eyes and grimaced. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nope. After all that crap that gave me for being a magic user, it turns out, so are you!” Stiles howled triumphantly.

“I’m not your ‘magic boyfriend,’” Derek growled.

“Just go with it,” Stiles said, stepping in front of Derek so they were face to face. “It’ll be easier for you in the long run.”

“Easier, huh?” Derek replied, with a smirk.

Stiles gave him a peck on the lips. “Yup.”

Derek shook his head and continued walking.

“The best thing is, we don’t have to be scared of our own shadows anymore,” Stiles continued.

“That is true,” Derek said. “Although, I have to say I might be more than a little scared of you, now.”

“What?” Stiles squawked. “Why?”

“When we first met, you threated me with the Five of Cups,” Derek answered. “Now I know what that means.”

“It _was_ kind of gross, huh?” Stiles said.

“Yeah,” Derek replied. “I saw everything. Kate just standing there like she was hypnotized, and you holding that goblet up to her lips. How did you even find out you could do that?”

Stiles shrugged. “My mom left a lot of notes. Someone, somewhere down the line figured it out and wrote it down. I’ve figured out a lot of stuff on my own, though.” He gave Derek a guilty look. “You know I would never do that to you, right?”

“You would have,” Derek said. “If I didn’t join Sentry.”

Stiles let go of Derek’s hand and was quiet for a while, as they continued walking. “I wish I could tell you I just said it to scare you, that I was never planning to do it. But, yeah, I probably would have. I would have done it to save you. I was doing my job.”

“Now you sound like Kate,” Derek said.

Stiles stopped walking. “That’s low. I could never do what Kate did. Do you really think of me like that?”

Derek looked at him. “Honestly? No. Look, I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight.”

Stiles smiled. “If we didn’t fight, then we would never talk to each other.”

Derek smirked and grabbed Stiles hand so they could continue walking.

“It sucks,” Stiles said after a while, “but we have our orders. We have to do what we’re told.” He hated that he was about to say it, but he said it anyway. “We don’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” Derek said, with determination in his voice.

Stiles laughed. “What, so you wanna take on the U.S. government now?”

Derek smiled at him and shrugged. “We’ve taken on worse.”


	5. The World of Ace of Swords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tend to do far more world-building than I actually need for a fic, and I think it would be a waste to not share all of that work. So, for anyone who’s interested, here is a full list of teams, characters, and abilities that I came up with in case I needed them. Enjoy!

**Sentry**  
A clandestine group of supers, formed under the purview of the United States government. Their mission is to protect the country from any and all threats, both conventional and superhuman. Sentry’s secondary mission is to find out why the numbers of supers around the world has grown so drastically in recent years, and why the powers of the current day supers seem to be much stronger than the supers of the past.

 **John Stilinski codename "Control"** – John Stilinski currently serves as the head of Sentry, and has the final say on any team operations. A former field operative, John has the supernatural ability of persuasion, and is also an empath-kinetic, able to sense and influence mood and emotion. 

John is the father of Stiles Stilinski codename "Ace," and was married to Stiles' mother, the former "Ace."

 **Melissa McCall codename "Sage"** – Sage is second in command of Sentry. A gifted healer, her touch can kill disease, knit bone, and rejuvenate tissue, though there are limits to her ability. 

Sage is the mother of Scott McCall codename "Bastion."

 **Scott McCall codename "Bastion"** – Bastion is Sentry's field team leader. Bastion is the most durable substance in the known universe, though that durability makes it all but impossible to collect any kind of tissue sample from him. The one exception to this seems to be his nails and hair, which as dead tissue offer little in the way of explaining how or why Bastion is the way that he is. Bastion is completely impervious to heat, cold, acid, base, cutting, piercing, pressure, abrasion, electricity, disease, shock waves, radiation, poison, crushing, or impact. He can hold his breath and go without food or water indefinitely. Other than his seemingly perfect durability, he is completely normal. He is never without his twin knives, and is exceptionally well trained in various hand-to-hand combat techniques. 

Bastion is the son of Melissa McCall codename "Sage." He grew up with and is best friends with Stiles Stilinski codename "Ace," and is currently dating Allison Argent codename "Razor."

 **Stiles Stilinski codename "Ace"** – Ace is a magic-user, the entirety of his super human powers being his ability to manipulate of a deck of tarot cards he inherited from his mother. While he can use the deck in all of the ways one might think to use a tarot deck, to read into the future and find things out about people, albeit with the precise accuracy that other decks simply cannot provide, he can also use the cards as weapons or to cast spells. His favorite card is the Ace of Swords, which he can turn into an actual broadsword at will, one that is impossibly sharp, practically weightless, and imparts him with the knowledge and reflexes of a seasoned swordsman. As his mother died when he was only an infant, he only had his father’s stories to guide him in his initial use of the deck. He has spent most of his life trying to learn the different ways he can use the deck, but he has yet to discover all that the deck has to offer. 

Ace is the son of Claudia Stilinski, the former Ace, and John Stilinski codename "Control." He grew up with and is best friends with Scott McCall codename "Bastion.”

 **Derek Hale codename "Silver"** – Silver is a shape shifter who can shift between a human form and a wolf form and anywhere in between, though he cannot change his mass. His shape shifting ability gives him exquisite control over his physiology, making him much stronger and faster than a normal human, as well as enhanced agility and senses. He is also very tough, and can use his shape shifting ability to heal himself, to a degree.

 **Allison Argent codename "Razor"** – Razor is the token human assigned to Sentry. As required by law, every government sponsored superhuman group must have at least one non-powered member, though with her proficiency with the bow and arrow, it sometimes seems that Sentry may not always be completely in compliance with that law. As former Special Forces, Razor is also proficient in a variety of weapons and martial arts. 

Razor is the daughter of Chris Argent, the head of the Bureau of Superhuman Affairs, and the granddaughter of Gerard Argent codename "Mastermind," leader of the Guard. She is the niece of Kate Argent, codename “Shade” also of The Guard, and is currently dating Scott McCall codename "Bastion."

 **Lydia Martin codename "Vector"** – Vector knows everything about everything that is within fifty-foot radius of her body, down to the way the atoms are arranged in the plaque on a person's gum line. She can move with extreme precision to create domino or Rube Goldberg like effects to cause seemingly impossible things to happen, like stomping her foot to cause a ceiling tile to fall on someone's head, or throwing a cup of water into cabinet in order to blow up a microwave in the next room. Beyond that, she is incredibly smart, and usually the smartest person in the room, regardless of whether that room is filled is brain surgeons or rocket scientists. Her current goal is to be recognized for her contributions in the field of mathematics, and dreams of the day when she will be presented with the Fields Medal.

 **Erica Reyes codename "Ghost"** – Ghost has the fortune, or misfortune, of existing in two different dimensions at the same time, the first being the dimension in which we find Earth. The other dimension that she concurrently exists in, a place she calls Pan-Dran, seems to operate using the same physics as this dimension. The planet that she occupies in Pan-Dran is similar to primordial Earth, complete with large dinosaur-like creatures, a very humid and oxygen rich atmosphere, and numerous active volcanoes. Because she is partly here, and partly there, she often has a translucent quality to her. She has a large degree of control over how much of her mass is in phase with each dimension, though she is unable to fully merge into either one. This phasing-like ability allows her to pass through solid matter at will in either dimension, and as long as she is paying attention, is able to allow bullets, blades, and other weapons or matter to harmlessly pass through her body.

Though she cannot phase herself fully into either dimension, she can phase any matter that she touches from one dimension into the other.

 **Vernon Boyd codename "Glitch"** – Glitch does not experience time in the same way that other people do, and may not in fact be moving through time in the same way as everyone else, though neither he nor the scientists that have studied him fully understand how or why this is happening. His unusual interaction with the time stream occasionally causes him to disappear and instantaneously reappear, having moved anywhere from an inch to several feet from his original location. Though this tends to happen involuntarily, mostly whenever he becomes emotional, he has in the past been known to have some degree of control over this phenomenon. This is just one of the many reasons for his somewhat stoic personality.

Although his time-based abilities give him a sort of prescience about certain events, he sometimes has difficulty communicating with the others, as his experiences of conversation is stilted and out of sync. Because of this, he rarely verbalizes what he knows, unless directly asked, though he always acts on his knowledge to the benefit of his team.

~

 **The Guard**  
The Guard is another government sponsored clandestine group of super humans. They are charged with gathering information on the possible super human groups of other nations, assessing their possible threat to the United States, and neutralizing them as threats, should the need arise. 

**Gerard Argent codename "Mastermind"** \- Mastermind is currently serving as the leader of the Guard. He has the ability to telepathically link to animals and force them to do his bidding. Though he can also use this ability on some weak-minded individuals, his ability does not generally work on most human beings. He never goes anywhere without his genetically and cybernetically enhanced komodo dragon, Darcy. Darcy moves much faster, and is much stronger, than a typical komodo dragon, and her jaws are lined with razor sharp teeth. She has been enhanced with a bulletproof hide and can climb vertical walls as if she were running along the ground. Gerard purposely keeps her underfed, making her even more aggressive than she has already been genetically modified to be. 

Mastermind is the father of Kate Argent codename "Shade," and Chris Argent, the the head of the Bureau of Superhuman Affairs. Mastermind is also the grandfather of Allison Argent codename "Razor," the non-powered member of Sentry.

 **Kate Argent codename "Shade"** – Shade's abilities are shadow-based. She can shape them as if they had mass, and can control them with her mind. She can even give them a limited form of autonomy and give them instructions to act on outside of her direct control. Regardless of the shape she gives them, all of her shadows can be destroyed by light, though light typically has a tendency to create even more shadows, which she can then use. She can travel from one shadow to another, using them as portals to go from one side of the room to the other, or to even instantaneously travel to the other side of the planet. Though she has not tried it, she believes this ability could even be used to get her off world. 

Shade is the daughter of Gerard Argent codename "Mastermind," and the sister of Chris Argent, the head of the Bureau of Superhuman Affairs. She is the aunt of Allison Argent codename “Razor,” the non-powered member of Sentry.

 **Isaac Lahey codename "Seraph"** – Seraph's powers are light based, and when he is using his abilities, a golden-yellow light emanates from his body, which he can shape into armor and weapons. Most often, he opts for a sword, and armor that looks like a cross between a medieval knight and Thor, the Norse god of thunder and lightning. Seraph is not the most mentally stable of operatives, actually believing that he is an angel that has been banished to earth as some sort of punishment that he needs to redeem himself for. Because of this, he often uses his abilities to fashion his light into a set of huge feathered wings that he can use to fly. Mental stability aside, Seraph is an excellent operative, though his light-based powers make it all but impossible to send him on any assignments requiring stealth.

 **Jackson Whittemore codename "Berserker"** – Deceased. At first glance, Jackson seems like a typical human, and most of the time, that is exactly what he is. But occasionally, especially in highly stressful situations, his alter ego, Berserker, will emerge. While Berserker has access to all of Jackson's memories, whenever Jackson emerges from his "Berserker" state, he never has any memory of it, and has on several occasions woken up to a room full of dead bodies with no inkling of how he got there. Berserker has incredible reflexes and is much stronger than Jackson. He is condescending, arrogant, sarcastic and very, very bloodthirsty. Because of his unstable nature, Berserker is only able to suppress Jackson's personality for about twenty minutes at a time, though that is more than enough time for him to wreak as much havoc as he wants.

 **Greenburg** –Deceased, speedster

**Matthew Daehler** non-powered, weapons and martial arts expert, surveillance expert, 

**Harris codename “Zephyr”** \- shape shifter, elemental type, subtype: air, ability to alter body between solid and gaseous states, limited control of air when in gaseous form. 

**~**

**Vigil**  
Vigil is the government's superhuman natural disaster response team. 

**Danny codename I.T.** – technopath, instantaneously knows and understands how to use any technology he comes into contact with, limited ability to cause damaged and/or technology without fuel or power to work. 

**Ethan codename Gridlock** – ability to make an unlimited number of living statues of himself. These “statues” breathe  & bleed but are not actually alive, and disintegrate into nothing after about an hour. 

**Aiden codename Copy** – ability to create clones of himself which are all under his control and can be reabsorbed later. 

**Alan Deaton codename Omen** – witch doctor 

**Morrell** – human, linguistics expert, expertise in field medicine and psychology, does research and acts as liaison 

**~**

**Alpha Red**  
A super human terrorist group. 

**Jennifer Blake codename Blindside** – sensory manipulation, killed Claudia in an attempt to steal her tarot deck, permanently incapacitated by Control. 

**Deucalion** – Blind, enhanced strength, agility, and senses. 

**Kali** – Shape shifter: animal type, subtype: wolf, enhanced healing, strength, agility, and senses, fangs and claws. 

**Ennis** – Super Strength, enhanced durability 

**~**

**The Hale Family**  
**Talia Hale** – Deceased. Shape shifter: animal type, subtype: wolf, enhanced healing, strength, agility, and senses, fangs and claws. 

**Collin Hale** – Deceased. Ability to create and control fire, immunity to flame and heat. 

**Laura Hale** – Deceased. Telepathy and telekinesis. 

**Cora Hale** – Deceased. Shape shifter: animal type, subtype: wolf, enhanced healing, strength, agility, and senses, fangs and claws. 


End file.
